Worth the Risk
by Shawtymanex42
Summary: Kyle is an infamous hacker and estranged from South Park, yet he can't seem to escape one person... Eric Cartman, who is now a notorious conman. Although Kyle accepts some of the work Eric offers him, accepting his friendship is another matter. People like them can't ever be friends, right? Let alone lovers. Kyman. Other characters and pairings may make a cameo.
1. A Snitch In Distress

Chapter 1: A Snitch In Distress

**Budapest, Hungary**

Dying bulbs glimmered briefly in Eric's bruised eyes, bobbing like mocking tadpoles in his struggling vision. The vicious purple swells, shining with sweat, begged to shut. Eric wasn't an idiot, he knew the sore pain that would be roused if he dared to close his eyes. Unconsciousness had been pushing its way to the forefront of his mind since his captors had abandoned him, chuckling sadistically and mumbling roughly in indecipherable Hungarian.

The lights were making him ache, his already whirring mind more unbalanced. A short, guttural laugh crawled through the coalition of blood and saliva in his mouth, his lax jaw struggling to support its weight. Crimson spittle gathered on his lips when his heavy head dropped unceremoniously and he studied his bloodied and mud-stained shirt with weak disapproval. _Motherfuckers _Eric thought _This is Tom Ford. _He laughed again and the hollowed, yet impossibly inescapable pain that coiled around his battered ribs made him regret it. He flexed his lifeless fingers, trying to coax sensation that his securely cuffed wrists had been depriving for the last two hours.

contrary to the situation he was currently in, Eric Cartman wasn't the type of guy to let a couple of mobsters handcuff him to a chair and allow the ever-loving shit to be beaten out of him. No, if the circumstances were different, Eric would have probably used the trust he had so easily earned over a late night game of poker in this very warehouse, to turn the members of this little mafia against each other and find a way to dissolve himself of all the blame. But $60,000 was coming his way and cheating the arrogant bastards who had taken great pleasure in beating him was all the vengeance he needed. _If Kyle would just hurry the fuck up..._

The idea to swindle money from a notoriously corrupt pharmaceutical firm was Eric's, it was a job he had planned and been setting up for a couple of weeks; Working on his alias (Matthias Bruneder. Thirty-two. Austrian.), producing the necessary bank account details and credentials as a rep for an Austrian pharmaceutical firm, and, finally, his way in (Through the mafia that the Hungarian firm had ties with and who would immediately pounce on the 'rat' that Matthias had proved himself to be). Kyle was drafted into the scheme when Eric needed somebody to hack into the firm's computers and transfer the money into his Austrian account (and subsequently Kyle's offshore one too).

Eric being 'punished' for his so-called 'betrayal of trust' was the perfect distraction for Kyle. Sneaking into the damp administration office was nearly too easy, the men who usually worked there were probably goading Eric or spitting in his hair when Kyle arrived. The transaction took seconds, once Kyle had created the algorithm to retrieve the security details he needed. His untraceable code destroying any evidence that he was even there. Stealth and invisibility was why he was in such high demand from conmen like Eric.

Eric was about to succumb to sleep when a hazy figure carefully entered the room, wearing an over-sized version of the jacket that his captors were sporting. Eric supposed it was some kind of unofficial uniform, a symbol of allegiance or 'brotherhood'. He wondered what that would feel like, but then deemed the concept ridiculous. A flame of genuine anger licked a blazing trail in his plexus, and he found it in himself to growl "_Meg fogom ölni kurva rohadékok_" The Austrian accent he had adopted twisted awkwardly around the Hungarian, but the sentiment behind the threat was still rather formidable.

"Sorry" Eric baulked at the familiar voice, his fatigue worsening his confusion. The man carelessly shrugged the jacket away from his shoulders and let it fall to the floor. It was only when he turned to face him, did Eric recognize that obnoxious shade of red hair "I'm afraid I don't speak Hungarian."

"I thought you were one of those sadistic fuckers..." Eric smirked, his shoulders loosening. "Where'd you get that jacket?"

"There was one in the administration office" Kyle replied, as he abandoned his 'disguise' and made his way over to Eric "Well, there was one on the guy I knocked unconscious"

"Avenging me?" Eric tried to ask jokingly, but Kyle couldn't find Eric amusing when his eyes were swollen and his face was a harsh, painful mesh of red and purple. He didn't like the guy, but seeing him so badly injured made his stomach twist with both pity and disgust.

Kyle studied Eric for a few minutes with clinical eyes, as if he was tallying each bruise and scar and trying to reach an obvious diagnosis. Eric waited, his smirk growing smaller, waiting as patiently as he could for Kyle to respond. A tiny rivulet of blood ran from the corner of Eric's mouth and Kyle instinctively swiped it away with his thumb."You're delusional. As if I'd ever do that for you" Kyle finally replied, quickly pulling his thumb away and wiping the smear of blood on his black cargo pants. "The money is in our accounts by the way. Hopefully that should make your cuts and bruises sting a little less."

"You make it sound like I've been in a playground fight, not practically held hostage by mafia thugs" Eric said wryly "Speaking of which, please tell me you got the damn keys to these things?" Eric shook his wrists, gesturing to the handcuffs that smacked loudly against the back of the chair.

Kyle rummaged around his sparse pockets for the tiny keys and they sparkled almost prettily under the waning, shaky lights.

Eric exhaled heavily, forgetting to wince at the strain on his chest "Oh thank God..."

Kyle bit back a small, smug laugh as he moved behind the chair to rescue Eric. The key was so damn small that it could have easily got lost between the pads of Kyle's fingers, and the lock was even tinier. But Eric just sat there, unusually quiet and patient as Kyle fumbled with the keys. This was unsettling for Kyle, as he knew Eric only allowed this kind of silence when he was thinking of something to say. And Kyle didn't really want to talk to Eric right now, in fact, there were only a few rare occasions when he did want to talk to Eric.

Eric coughed, bringing up faint flecks of blood that scattered the grimy floor. "So, hey, uh... Have you thought anymore about Friday?"

"Friday?" Kyle replied, distracted by the task he was performing "What's on- Oh, right, yeah... I'll try to make it."

"You'll try?" Eric indignantly asked, with an irritating, chiding tilt to his voice that made Kyle vainly wish for quiet.

"Yeah, I'll try, okay?" Kyle snapped, letting Eric's wrists go suddenly, but careful not to drop the keys. "Why is me showing up such a big deal to you?"

"It's not a big deal to me" Eric shrugged. Kyle scowled.

"It could be to you..." Eric continued.

"What are you talking about?" Kyle sighed, more willing to engage in conversation now that the key had successfully slotted into the nearly minuscule lock. "You know I usually have no problem indulging you in your infuriating attempts at conversation but I'm a little busy trying to free you. So I'd prefer it if you just cut to the chase."

"Alright" Eric conceded "I have a job coming up and I need somebody who knows a thing or two about breaching security systems. Lasers specifically. And, if you're interested, there's a decent payout."

Admittedly, Kyle was tempted. The job sounded easy enough, and he was always interested in a good payout. Slipping the handcuffs away from Eric's wrists, he replied with a half-interested smile "Well, that makes me more likely to attend."

Before Eric could respond, Kyle stood up quickly and without preamble. His ears were trained on the gruff, distant voices that were edging closer.

"We need to go" Kyle spoke, authoritative and urgent, belying the faded sense of danger that Kyle and Eric had become more than accustomed to in their line of work. Kyle tugged on Eric's creased collar, pulling Eric to his feet before he had time to protest about how roughly Kyle was handling his precious suit.

Their time constraints were unknown, not every job that Kyle or Eric had involved a ticking clock that they had to race against. But Kyle was a firm believer in not staying at a job for longer than he needed to. Eric usually had different ideas, his arrogance and unabashed need for a thrill forced him to want to wait just a tad longer... To see if he could get caught and what he could do to get out with it. Eric never worried about getting caught and having to suffer the consequences, the concept was completely foreign to him. But seeing as he had allowed himself to be somewhat of a liability on this particular job, he was following Kyle's orders - quite literally - letting the shorter, leaner (although surprisingly strong) man drag him to the dark exit as if he were a petulant child.

Kyle kicked the door open and the pale sunlight ripping through the clouds made the two men realize just how miserably dim it was in the shabby warehouse. The harsh daylight weakened Eric more than he thought it would; his heart sprinting and his lungs clamoring for breath as if those mobsters had chased him down. Feeling shoulders tremor under the tight grip Kyle had on Eric's shirt, he turned to face him, his bruises illuminated horrifically. Kyle softened his grip around Eric's shirt but quickly caught hold of his wrist instead so as not for Eric to slump against the rusted doorway and risk further beating.

Eric winced at Kyle's cool palm tightening like a noose around his wrist, but Kyle was focused on the more dangerous sounds; the incredulous, angry shouts of the mobsters as they realized their 'snitch' had escaped.

Kyle turned his head and grinned at the black Mercedes, visible enough just outside the weed and vermin-infested alleyway.

"Come on!" Kyle hissed at Eric, his words lacked encouragement, but to Eric they were filled with a challenge. With the rowdy, fuming demands of the mobsters growing louder, Eric bolted quicker than Kyle thought he was capable of in his condition. It was somewhat impressive, Kyle decided after he'd caught up to Eric, that his battered legs could run at such a pace, but there was still a gnawing urge inside Kyle to twist at Eric's wrist and remind him of how he had got the shit kicked out of him.

A blindly shot bullet collided with a garbage can and Kyle heard somebody bark something in Hungarian. He had no fucking idea what it was, but it made a defiant grin spread across Eric's face, so he figured it must have been pretty funny. Kyle kind of wished he understood.

More gunshots followed, but Eric and Kyle were already collapsing inside the Mercedes, with Eric commanding Kyle to drive with a strange, triumphant excitement.

Eric watched the mobsters chase them in the rear view mirror, thoroughly entertained. Kyle just rolled his eyes and concentrated on the road, but after sparing a glance too, he decided that it wouldn't hurt to put his foot on the gas a little more... Until they were leisurely gliding through the streets of Budapest.

* * *

><p><strong>AN**:_ Yes, another multi-chapter! I realize this chapter is kinda short, and I will make the next one longer, but I am trying to shorten my chapters in general... Not a crazy amount, just to a nice 'readable' word count._

_I hope you enjoyed! In fact, I'd love to hear what you thought so far and I greatly appreciate reviews._


	2. Home Before Midnight

**Manhattan, New York**

Of course Eric had to celebrate his 26th birthday in one of the busiest bars in Manhattan. Kyle rolled his eyes and cursed Eric's decision as he tentatively moved away from the entrance, weaving through the inebriated, chattering crowds as if he were navigating his way through a complex security log; practical and observant. The bright, saccharine-colored bag he was awkwardly clutching kept bumping into people's legs, and he hoped that the contents weren't damaged.

In a gap through the throngs of people, Kyle was able to see the hulking, brunette figure that was Eric, dressed (typically) in a sleek, black suit. Kyle halted, not disturbing the tenuous 'traffic' of the bar, and he seemed to blend in with the groups of off-the-clock lawyers who had been drinking since late afternoon, or bros looking to hook up with the shot-taking single girls occupying a nearby booth.

It was only when Eric looked up from his bottle did he see Kyle's obligatory-self standing a few feet away from his table. A thoughtless smile spread across Eric's face and he abandoned his guests to greet Kyle. "Hey!" He grinned, he could feel Kyle's impatience melting away "You made it!"

"Yeah, I just figured I'd stop by..." Kyle nodded, unable to even feign Eric's cheeriness at his presence. A shadow of surprise colored his bored expression, furrowing his eyebrows at the delicate, graying shades on Eric's face. His vicious bruises only noticeable when the dimmed lights stroked them, his cuts shriveling like withered Fall leaves."Wow, your face" Kyle gasped, not knowing what he was saying until Eric's raised eyebrow reiterated his words for him. Kyle shook his head and quickly added "It's looking a lot better..."

Eric huffed arrogantly "Duh. I'm pretty much invincible, Kahl."

"Right" Kyle smirked exasperatedly, rolling his eyes "Of course"

A silvery, iridescent flash caught Eric's eye "Is that for me?" He asked, pointing to the bag Kyle had nearly forgotten about.

"Oh, yeah it is" Kyle said, finally something snapping his attention away from how unfairly quick Eric's bruises had healed. "Happy birthday" He tried to inject as much glee as possible into the sentiment, but there wasn't enough to really drive it home. Kyle grimaced, he could never be a conman like Eric. Deception was one thing, being disingenuous was another.

"Thanks" Eric wryly grinned, snatching the bag from Kyle and reaching inside. He pulled out a pale blue envelope and Kyle watched as he ripped it open, stuffing the torn remains back into the bag. Eric glanced at the generic birthday card before opening it up to read what was written inside. He cleared his throat loudly, a loathsome, mocking smirk on his face "'To Eric.'" He began, Kyle flushed with both irritation and embarrassment as Eric read what he wrote. "Happy Birthday. From Kyle'... " Eric looked up at Kyle and added "mesmerizing"

"I do try"

Eric chuckled, the noise surprised Kyle, as there seemed to be no nastiness behind it. Then Eric finally pulled out his present; Szamorodoni, Hungarian Tojaki wine. Eric's eyes widened, genuinely impressed. His eyes betrayed him with another emotion, but Kyle wasn't interested in reading into it. "Wow, thanks" Eric laughed softly. Kyle inhaled quietly with relief, he remembered Eric saying he had a small bar in his apartment and Kyle thought that he must have some interest in liquor, spirits, wine etc. And Kyle guessed that probably rare beverages like Szamorodoni would be a welcomed addition to Eric's collection "When did you have the time to get this in Budapest?"

"I didn't" Kyle admitted, the part of his brain that informed him of social etiquette wished he hadn't "There's this liquor store in my neighborhood that sells European alcohol-" Kyle furrowed his eyebrows at the small crease of annoyance in Eric's face "...But it's the thought that counts, right?" Kyle added fallibly, wringing his hands together.

"I bet that's what you say to everybody who receives half-assed presents from you" Eric teased.

"Hey!" Kyle snapped _Aaaand it's taken him about fifteen minutes to piss me off. _" You're lucky I got you anything at all, you ungrateful asshole!"

"Woah, chill, Kahl, I'm kidding!" Eric laughed, raising his hands in defense. He may have been kidding, but it didn't stop white hot frustration from bubbling in Kyle's chest. A small smile quirked at the corner of Eric's mouth as he looked at Kyle's familiar grumpy frown. He leaned in a little closer, Kyle felt his breath catch uncomfortably on the smell of Eric's cologne and the whiskey he had drunk "Would a free drink wipe that cute little frown off your face?"

"Don't call me cute, douchebag" Kyle warned darkly.

Eric didn't seem threatened, he simply shook his head and replied "But you are" Kyle's eyes shone darker and Eric could practically hear his teeth grind. "So cute and_ lame_"

The emphasis on the word made that strained, thin cord known as 'Kyle's patience' snap. Whereas Kyle used to angrily admit defeat when his patience evaporated (which usually resulted in lashing out physically or spewing words until they became a nonsensical, weirdly pitched bundle of noises), his maturity allowed for a masque of calmness and cool composure. Eric knew this, and wasn't at all surprised when Kyle replied in a controlled voice "I'll remember that next time you need me to break into a mainframe or shut down a security grid" Kyle didn't care that Eric was smiling at him, for it meant he had effectively won "Those adorable little plays you grifters put on are hardly likely to save your asses from getting sliced by a H7 laser system."

Kyle hardly ever noticed the height difference between him and Eric, but the way Eric was staring down at him, Kyle felt like the two inches might as well have been twenty. "That's more like it" Eric said humidly before his voice lowered and adopted a husky quality that made Kyle grimace "I was hoping you'd show up, you know"

"Most of the time you can hardly stomach me" Kyle coldly replied, the ambiguity over the sincerity of Eric's words making him hostile. Kyle never handled being out of Eric's loop very well. He hated having to stubbornly sprint after Eric's train of thought when there was really no need to.

"Maybe..." Eric considered and Kyle appreciated the honesty "But we're adults now. And we're valuable to each other-"

"I don't think so"

"We are" Eric said firmly "So there's no reason why we can't be civil"

"Fair enough" Kyle acquiesced.

"Aren't you gonna order a drink?" Eric asked Kyle after he took a momentary glance at the bar "Join me and the guys?"

Kyle peered over Eric's shoulder at the 'guys'. Kyle had worked with at least four of them and it wasn't exactly enjoyable. Working with uncouth, cold-hearted Neanderthal thugs was definitely not Kyle's idea of fun. Those guys never planned their jobs, never sought out their own commission. They were always hired by some pompous art dealer who hid behind a masque of sophistication, some heartless corporation riddled with corruption or mysterious jewel traders who wouldn't think twice of wiping you out if it meant the blood wouldn't show up on their hands. Granted, Kyle was no stranger to those avenues of work. But he had more control than he would ever let any client realize, invisibility was a valuable commodity, it had leverage. And he was smart enough to use it. These guys Eric was drinking with, weren't intelligent enough to see exactly what they were getting into. At least conmen like Eric had the practiced gait, the charm, the cunning to have their wits about them. Kyle had to give Eric some credit for that.

"Since when are they your 'guys'?" Kyle asked incredulously, Eric must have fucked them all over at some point; at a poker game, during a job...

"Since I needed them to be" Eric replied unabashedly.

Kyle shook his head disbelievingly at Eric, fixing him with a slightly scathing glare "Jesus Christ..."

"What?"

"You are just one façade after another, aren't you?" The rapier-like quality of Kyle's voice melded caustically with his condescending, amused tone. Eric found it rather funny. So he laughed, shaking his head and running a hand through his hair, like it was the best way to say 'I don't know what you want me to tell you'

"No, seriously, you are the most self-serving person I've ever met" Kyle continued "And, trust me, I know a lot of people who are-"

"Including you?" Eric interrupted nonchalantly, figuring that was enough to shut Kyle up.

Kyle thought for a moment, more stunned by Eric's words than he would allow himself to admit. Or show. Instead, he met Eric's eyes and answered honestly "Yeah, I guess"

Eric smiled appreciatively at Kyle, and after a second of hesitation, Kyle cautiously smiled back.

"It's a good thing I don't trust you" Kyle added, just to keep things leveled.

"That's very wise" Eric nodded, he probably wouldn't trust himself if given the chance. He turned away from Kyle to spare a disinterested glance at the guests who didn't seem to be bothered by his absence "Okay, if you don't wanna sit with those guys... " Eric turned back to Kyle "You and I will find a place to sit together"

"Fine" Kyle replied, heading for the bar "But I'll need a Corona"

Eric didn't want to chide Kyle about his oh-so-seasonal choice of drink as he followed him "Alright"

"And details of the job you were telling me about in Budapest" Kyle smirked.

"Gladly" Eric replied to himself.

After ordering their drinks and finding a secluded (perhaps a tad intimate) booth, the conversation was quickly steered in the direction Kyle was hoping for. "Alright. It's a jewel acquisition" Eric told Kyle, taking a swig of his scotch, he continued "A French diamond. This big French jewelry company is opening its flagship U.S. store on Fifth Avenue and a function is being held to promote it at the Plaza next Saturday night... That's where the diamond will be. It's one of the most expensive in the collection"

"How much?" Kyle asked, absent-mindedly peeling the label off his bottle.

"Thirty thousand dollars"

"Wow..." Kyle murmured, his intrigue undoubtedly spiking.

"Yeah, this store, it's real fancy and expensive"

"Are you sure it's not another Cartier store?"

"I checked. It's not Cartier, it's way more exclusive, that's why hardly anybody has heard of it"

Kyle nodded, realizing almost to himself "Which is probably why they want to impress so much over here"

"Exactly" Eric replied, regardless if he was supposed to. "I mean, it's not entirely unknown. I'm sure if you spent the weekend in the Hamptons a few spoiled rich girls would be able to tell you all about it. It's a subsidiary of Compagnie Financière Richemont SA."

"I see" Kyle remarked, like he had the faintest clue about diamonds. He furrowed his eyebrows suspiciously "And who told you about all this?"

"I was at a poker game a couple of days before we went to Budapest and John 'I-have-the-lamest-alias-in-the-history-of-fake-identities' McCain told me me about it" Eric explained. "I mean, it definitely intrigued me. Especially when I heard how much the diamond was valued at"

"Wait, isn't that John McCain guy part of the thief club who supposedly stole the Hope Diamond from the Smithsonian?" Kyle asked.

"Yep. At least that's what he tells me..." Eric replied, looking rather sheepish when Kyle shot him a mildly amused, cynical look "But, I dunno. He's kinda old, maybe he's going senile"

"I remember that being on the news, you know" Kyle could recall the news item being interspersed with all the excitement over the election results the night before "That the Hope Diamond was missing"

"Pretty inspiring, wasn't it?" Eric joked.

"For you, maybe" Kyle replied, nudging Eric and almost causing the contents of his tumbler to spill over the rim.

"Whatever" Eric muttered, scowling at his almost-lost drink "So, are you in?"

"No, you call that a job brief?" Kyle asked in a slightly scolding manner "What exactly do I have to do?"

"Haven't you done enough of these things?" Eric shot back mockingly "You should know by now..."

Kyle glared at him, unwilling to tolerate Eric's bullshit. And Eric knew it. He couldn't afford not having Kyle on this job, sure there were other hackers out there, and Eric had worked with them before, but, admittedly, Kyle was pretty damn good. Plus, Kyle was familiar and not completely void of morals; Eric felt a subconscious swell of trust in his chest when he and Kyle worked together. Even if it wasn't reciprocated.

"Fine" Eric obliged, with an annoyed roll of his eyes "So, you'll attend the function with me, I'll provide a distraction while you disable the laser system, shut down the security grid, whatever it is that you nerds do and once you've done that, I'll retrieve the diamond"

Kyle guessed he should be thankful for Eric's lame excuse of a plan. Besides, Kyle liked to do his own thorough research and strategize accordingly.

"You can't retrieve the diamond..." Kyle murmured.

"Why not?"

"Because 'retrieve' would imply that it was yours to begin with"

Eric laughed obnoxiously under his breath "Fucking nerd..."

"Asswipe" Kyle muttered, wanting to stamp on Eric's Gucci loafers.

"Well? Have I sold you, Kahl?" Eric asked, after he had drank what was remaining in his tumbler "Are you in?"

Honestly, Kyle was a little unsure. He fidgeted indecisive "I don't know" He answered "I don't really like dealing with jewels. People steal them and then have no idea what to do with them..."

"Isn't it obvious?" Eric asked "You sell them on the black market, don't you? And you and I will go fifty-fifty" Usually, Eric wouldn't have proposed such a fair deal. Or if he did, it would only be a means of luring somebody in and then swiftly cheating them when the time came. But Eric was a little scared of Kyle, although he'd hardly let himself admit it.

"Alright" Kyle replied, figuring it'd be a night out at the Plaza and a chance to see a beautiful diamond up close. Not to mention thirty thousand dollars... "I'm in"

"Great" Eric replied, anxious of Kyle leaving too early. His eyes flickered inconspicuously between his drink and Kyle, aware of the possibility of his hasty retreat. Eric fidgeted before asking "So have you spent any of your Budapest money yet?"

Kyle's faced creased with confusion, probably wondering as much as Eric was why he was suddenly inquiring about his life. "I got some new equipment" Kyle replied uneasily, waiting for some kind of catch. Maybe the business he was in had made him unable to trust, or maybe he just thought he knew Eric too well.

"Like what?" Eric asked, relaxing a little.

"Are you really interested?" Kyle replied, unconvinced.

Eric ignored the tightening pit of nervousness in his gut and instead adopted a farcical, disingenuous expression "Why would you even ask such a question?"

"Because you've never shown any interest before" Kyle pointed out. It never occurred for Kyle to care, after all, the feeling was mutual. Kyle didn't bother delving into Eric's life away from the scheming and in return, Eric - thankfully - didn't delve into Kyle's.

"True" Eric replied, his expression shifting from sarcastic to unreadable and cool. Kyle could break codes and algorithms but ask him to decipher Eric when putting on that manipulative role he played so well and he'd fail. "Maybe because I know that me taking in an interest in your new toys will make you more likely to sit and talk for a little while. It may be enough for you to order another Corona"

"And why would you wanna waste your time with someone who irritates you so much?" Kyle asked, with a raised eyebrow. _Good point._ Eric hadn't even considered why he wanted Kyle to stay a little longer, he just... Did. It gave him the unsettling feeling that Kyle knew more than he did and that was so God damn infuriating.

"Well, for one, it's my birthday-"

"Like Hell is that a valid answer-"

"So fucking what if it isn't?" Eric snapped, they both tried to conceal their flinches at Eric's voice cracking through his cheeky, controlled façade. Something peeled away in their eyes then, the colorful spyglasses that would always betray them, and in the split second their eyes met, something was revealed to them that they would probably never see again. A slip-up. A weakness. Something pathetically human. It was enough to make them recoil, a fearful shiver slid down their spines.

Eric smiled exasperatedly, turning away from Kyle before quickly grabbing his attention again "It's called making conversation, Kahl" He began "I don't know if it's the scotch, or my birthday, or this cozy little booth-" Kyle involuntarily laughed at that last one; unattractive but decidedly cute. Eric smirked at eliciting such an unflattering noise, while a pink flush crawled up Kyle's throat "But something is making me wanna ask you questions and actually listen to your response. Would it be so bad to just humor me? It'll save a lot of time."

"Okay" Kyle sighed, feigning impatience whilst a small smile crept on his lips "I bought a new tablet and invested in some updated recording devices..."

"Recording devices?"

"Yes, Eric" Kyle joked, his mouth set in a mirthful grin "Like microphones and little cameras to pin on people's clothes-"

"Yeah, I'm familiar with the fucking concept, dickhole" Eric interrupted, with no malice to his tone "But why do you need them?"

"I don't" Kyle replied "I'll probably never use them"

"What a practical way to spend your money"

"If all goes well at the jewel acquisition I won't have to worry about buying impractical things"

"Do you always have an answer to everything?"

"Pretty much" Kyle shrugged, taking a swig of his Corona before he asked "What about you? Have you treated yourself?"

Eric shook his head "Not yet..."

"You haven't?" Kyle asked

"You sound surprised..."

"I am" Kyle replied "I thought you would have made at least one extravagant purchase... Like a car or a yacht or something"

"I find driving in Manhattan a waste of time" Eric explained "And sailing too"

Kyle chuckled, realizing he was actually having a good time. And in a bar on a Friday night with Eric Cartman of all people! He stared at his lap, his fingers nervously twitching and his mind subconsciously led him to a darkened room, with a cold, mysterious image on the screen and his deft fingers were moving gracefully over the keys, creating monotonous, chattering music. "Well, uh, I should probably go" Kyle nearly murmured it, sliding away from Eric to make his exit.

But Eric only shifted closer, softly imploring "It's only eleven thirty, Kahl"

"And I'd like to get home before midnight" Kyle hastily said, his voice felt like it was sitting on a razor's edge.

"Don't you wanna finish your beer first?" Eric asked hopefully.

Kyle stared at his half-empty bottle of golden, shimmering Corona. Kyle rolled his eyes before curling his fingers around the off-putting dampness and he let the bitter liquid playfully bite at his lips before it prickled on his tongue, gliding down his throat. Eric watched Kyle's wet lips flush under the peak of the bottle's cold neck - his cinnamon lashes fluttering in focused blinks and his Adam's apple bobbing rhythmically - with some amusement.

"Well played... " Eric admitted, slightly disappointed that Kyle had drunk it all. But his disappointment quickly melted when he noticed the remnants of beer glistening on Kyle's victorious grin. "Here" Eric smiled gently, handing him a napkin.

"What?" Kyle asked, not taking the napkin.

Eric pointed to his own mouth "You've got some beer-"

"Oh, right... " Kyle blushed and snatched the napkin from Eric's hand. After dabbing his mouth he said "Now I can go"

Kyle was surprised by Eric's lack of protest, not to mention glad... Until he realized Eric was following him.

"Um, what are you doing?" Kyle asked, turning around and nearly causing Eric to fall into him.

Eric burned under the muted lights "Seeing you out"

Kyle nodded, slight irritation twisting uncomfortably in his chest "I know my way out, Eric"

"Well, maybe I haven't annoyed you enough yet" Eric offered as a pitiful explanation, it made him want to grit his teeth.

Naturally, Kyle turned his back on him, but balled his fist when he felt an undoubtedly strong hand grip his arm, causing him to jerk back.

"Wait, uh, how are you getting home?" Eric awkwardly asked, his grip becoming lax on Kyle's arm once he took in Kyle's pissed-off glare.

"A cab" Kyle replied, flustered.

"I can help you hail one" Eric offered nonchalantly.

"I've lived in this city for nearly two years, I've hailed plenty of cabs without supervision."

"But maybe if we hail one together, we can get you home quicker" _Jesus tap dancing Christ, you're better than this! _Eric sighed at his sudden inability to persuade. Even Kyle furrowed his eyebrows, wanting to know what the Hell had come over Eric. "You know" Eric suddenly smirked "Before they all turn into pumpkins"

Kyle let a stupid, annoyed smile spread across his face before he defeatedly sighed "What the Hell..."

Eric grinned smugly to himself as he followed Kyle outside. But that grin evaporated when they were drowned out by the busy, noisy street.

Just as Kyle had said, it didn't take him long to hail a cab and he got in wordlessly. Eric just watched with the inexplicable urge to say something.

"Hold on-" Eric grabbed the cab door before he could stop himself.

Kyle glared at him "What?"

The corner of Eric's mouth flickered into a half-smile when he asked "Do you wanna get coffee this week?" Kyle furrowed his eyebrows incredulously at the trivial words coming out of Eric's mouth "We can work on our plan for Saturday? Do some reconnaissance?"

"I prefer to do my own prep..." Kyle hastily replied, reaching for the door himself.

"But-"

"Eric!" Kyle suddenly snapped, sending Eric to reel and his eyes to flash in alarm "If I can hail a cab without your help then I think can hack into a laser system on my own as well. And I've done that for longer than I've had to hail a cab in this city"

Eric rolled his eyes and conceded "You have a point"

Kyle smiled at Eric appreciatively, Kyle's voice low and secretive enough to placate him "Happy birthday, Eric"

"Thanks, Cinderella" Eric quipped, and Kyle laughed under his breath "Good night" He added before shutting the door.

* * *

><p>It's difficult to call a place 'home' when you haven't even unpacked some of your boxes yet. Granted, Kyle didn't have many things of sentimental value. Objects he kept because they allowed him to recall a time, a place, a person... Things he'd forgotten. And over these past few years, he had forgotten a lot. Or, rather, just like his boxes, it was wise to leave them closed.<p>

Nonetheless, Kyle liked his modest apartment, situated in a quiet enough little neighborhood in the Bronx (well, as quiet as you're gonna get in the busiest city on Earth), Kyle would even say it was perfect for a temporary base; humbly furnished and a decent size. It wasn't somewhere he was going to miss if the feds suddenly got lucky and found him, forcing him to run again. If his stats were anything to go by, the odds of that happening were painfully thin, for Kyle had left no fragment of identity for the authorities to pinpoint or track, he was unable to trace with a fingerprint or a hair fiber. He was simply an unmarked, empty file that namelessly recounted stolen money and intercepted systems. An incorporeal menace that moved too swiftly and surreptitiously under the radar. Kyle never had to run. Only pick up his things and relocate. Different cities, states, continents... Which ever was the most practical or lucrative, Kyle wouldn't hesitate. After all, what exactly did he have to leave behind? He had already done it once, his first act of deceit and betrayal had been painful enough to make him immune to the repercussions of abandonment. Kyle often wondered, in among all the duplicitous transactions and unscrupulous reasoning, when did he become as inhumane as the nefarious activities he made his living out of?

His only real sense of home he could grasp, the only true feeling of accomplishment and purpose he could fathom nowadays was his skill that made him infamous in felonious circles, earned him some formidable and somewhat flattering nicknames. In every place he found himself barely settling, there was always room, as big as a clandestine hovel, for his precious equipment. Eric had called them 'toys' but they were heavy with the capabilities to make an amateur sink. They were also the only expense Kyle would let himself afford, even if it wasn't all too exciting, it was practical. And Kyle found that living a life rooted in practicality and survival was much less painful. A tad too monochrome perhaps, starched white aligning with inky, bottomless black but never overlapping. It suited Kyle just fine, to not be stifled by trivial things like acquaintances, romances and obligations that required too much emotion.

Still, Kyle was young enough to recall how it felt to be embraced by those trivial things. Snowfall always reminded him of his estranged hometown and, subsequently, Stan and Kenny who were trapped in time and whose voices were becoming fainter in Kyle's head. He was partial to small tidbits about his brother's life over their frosty video calls and phone conversations with his parents were increasingly sporadic. The grasp on his former life was tenuous and Kyle felt he wasn't moving in the right direction to get it back.

Independence and fickleness. That's where it all had shifted... But was that really so bad? Who wants to live a stagnant life that moves as slow as molasses? Who wants to share themselves and become slaves to dependence? Subconsciously relying on the comfort of others? _Who wouldn't want to be alone?_

Kyle shook his head as he sauntered to his room, reeking of the bar. He was too tired to have a shower, he'd wash the smell of tonight off in the morning.

And with the taste of Corona still in his mouth, the tendrils of realization slithered into Kyle's mind _The only permanent thing you've got is Eric. _The thought made Kyle stumble, and he leaned against the door jamb of his bedroom as he tried to push it away.

Kyle's chest hurt at, what he thought was, his unlucky lot in life. That the only person left who was as much a part of his present as he was his past, was Eric Cartman.

Kyle growled angrily, the distorted sound returning to him and making him cringe. He couldn't go to sleep with that nasty realization in his head. So instead, he went to the bathroom and splashed his face with cold water. Its sting was enough to wake him up but he could hardly bring himself to look in the mirror, burying his face in a soft, warm towel before marching mindlessly to his 'office' and throwing himself into some premature research for the diamond acquisition.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** _Cheeky Eric and Kyle dialogue and a little character development, what more could you want on a Tuesday? I hope you enjoy and I'd love to hear your thoughts! Thank you for reading! _


	3. Plus-One

Set in a platinum brooch, the 'Neige Perle' was an exquisite blue and white, eighty carat diamond and the focus of Eric and Kyle's planning for the past week.

Eric understood now, why John had bestowed such importance on the diamond. For it truly was elegant, regal, elusively beautiful; enough to send any diamond thief in fits of humbling sobs. Eric was sure, in the unhealthy, yellowing gleam of the old thief's eyes, something glinted, pushing the 'Neige Perle' forward like an icicle spearing through the heart. Even Kyle - who was still rather wary of jewel acquisitions - was awed by the diamond and its value. It distracted him from the unnerving epiphany he had following Eric's birthday, and daydreaming about what he could buy with his share of the thirty thousand dollars was a pleasant enough occupation for his mind so usually consumed by strategy and technological jargon.

Having only received one blunt text from Eric, instructing him to rent a tux for the job, Kyle plowed ahead with his research; layout of the grand Plaza hotel diluted into easily accessible entrances and places that were vulnerable for infiltration. Admittedly, the security system that the hotel had implemented in the holding room, threw Kyle slightly (his eyes widening in the glow of his computer screen, taking a long sip of his coffee with a puzzled expression on his face), it was an upgraded T70 laser series that Kyle had only ever encountered once whilst aiding a bank robbery in Barcelona. Kyle had manipulated it before, he'd be able to do it again. But he couldn't stop envisioning his usually steady fingers devolving into trembling digits.

Eric, however, embraced such apprehension of the unknown and the challenging... Although he felt neither concerning this job. What was once so thrilling for Eric, was now pleasurably comfortable. He often felt a shiver roll down his spine, an ecstatic smirk tug at the corner of his mouth, when whatever carefully crafted persona gained the access he needed, conned the crowd with little effort. Eric's sense of guilt or shame had been seemingly clipped at birth and even if there was still a caged bird of remorse chirping morbidly in the crowded recesses of his mind, Eric either couldn't understand it or feigned deafness to it. That certainly seemed to be the case with these disposable aliases, imitating life in the form of fraudulent accounts and swiftly cashed bonds.

The latest of these manufactured identities was one Irene Calaway; heiress to a small East Texan oil fortune who had an insatiable passion for exclusive jewels, and was your typical Southern Belle. Eric only ever had time to work with archetypes, molded to fit his agenda. Still, he loaded Irene with a wealth of knowledge, not only of diamonds, but of the profiles of every guest and employee attending the function.

She also had enough sway to get herself - and a plus one - on the guest list.

* * *

><p><em>Of course he's late <em>Kyle thought, standing at the street corner of the Plaza _It'd be too convenient for him to show up on time. _Granted, it was only a few minutes, but Kyle worked under the assumption that you can't ever be too precise. Kyle also thought that Eric would be as mindful about the importance of details; realizing the implication of a missed second or a numerical error.

Lines of chauffeured Bentleys and the occasional limousine wedged themselves into Kyle's vision, the disembodied voices of the indulgently wealthy whistled through him like the gentle, evening breeze and the honeyed, welcoming lights of the hotel dared to spill out on the backstreets.

Kyle was about to call Eric and tell him to not fucking bother and that he was gonna get the Neige Perle himself, when an obnoxious yellow cab quietly pulled over. Kyle smoothed down his peerless white shirt expectantly, anticipation prickling on his skin as his mind focused on the diamond and the thirty thousand dollars.

A frustrated twinge of disappointment tugged at Kyle's chest when a smooth, shapely leg and a silver t-bar stiletto coquettishly peaked out of the door. A soft, Texan voice could be heard jovially thanking the cab driver, before another leg emerged from the car.

A person was revealed followed by a slam of a door.

But it wasn't just a person, it was an undeniably glamorous woman. The type of glamor Kyle only believed to be fictional and the product of Hollywood editing, entirely unattainable. The woman could have passed for an amazon if it weren't for her flaxen hair, voluminous and styled in buttery, soft ringlets. She grinned at Kyle with tender red lips, the smirk may have originated from the most passionate, sultry corners of Hell itself and it seemed to be the controlling strings for the gorgeous marionette that was her face; her rouged, dusky cheeks swelled flirtatiously like ripened summer fruit and those unmistakable golden eyes (that were making Kyle so uneasy and resentful) were set off by shimmering eye-shadow and fluttering, dainty lashes.

Kyle's eyes widened, grimacing at his sudden loss of breath and he didn't realize he had stumbled back until his shoulders bumped into the cold wall. It felt like a harsh reminder of his senses as he took in the bizarre and yet... Extraordinary sight in front of him.

Eric placed a manicured hand on his cocked, voluptuous hip "I'd say that's the reaction I was hoping for" Eric finally spoke, the glint of his Tiffany tennis bracelet mirroring the sparkle in his eye.

He waited for Kyle to respond, watching the choked flush creep up his neck "Well?" Eric asked, raising an eyebrow, he twirled on his stilettos, the heel as thin as a toothpick "Come on, you aren't usually this quiet... How do I look?" With his broad, portly quarterback shape poured into a slinky, floor-length scarlet gown slashed to above the knee (and sporting a pretty buxom cleavage) Kyle wanted to say like a fucking shape-shifter. Or a temptress.

_Or beautiful _The gentle thought seemed to crawl from the pit of Kyle's stomach, and he was sure that was bile burning in the back of his throat. Kyle could have forgotten the person hidden under the dress and make up. But now he was reminded, he felt just as stupid as the guests Eric was about to con.

Kyle gulped. "Beautiful" He figured he might as well play along, and it was kind of the truth. Eric did look amazing.

The word stung Eric like a slap, almost sending him to teeter on his heels. Now, that he _wasn't_ expecting. Well, not from Kyle at least. "Thank you" Eric smirked politely, not giving anything away.

Kyle smiled shyly, feeling the tension drain from his shoulders as he found his center of gravity. His aloof, professional composure. "Before I forget" He began, digging around in his jacket pocket "Our EPs" He said, producing two flesh colored ear pieces, handing one over to Eric.

"Oh my!" Eric quipped in a Southern accent, breathless and feminine "They're wonderful!" Eric frowned in annoyance when Kyle didn't laugh. He placed the EP in his ear, fumbling with the extravagant dropper earrings he was wearing.

"When we correspond, just remember to talk quietly but sharply-"

"I know, Kahl" Eric interrupted, Kyle really needed to lighten up. They were at the Plaza, with champagne, fine food and decadence abound. Who says it couldn't be fun? Maybe afterwards they could snag one little victory drink? Eric glanced over at Kyle, watching him as he studied the security placed at the entrance. And with Kyle's attention otherwise preoccupied, Eric took his time staring at Kyle in his tux. Admittedly, he did look handsome, emphasizing whatever his best features were and Eric supposed it must have been a welcomed departure from his usual innocuous get-ups that diminished him and made him pale into the scenery.

Eric stared down at his shoes, the words prodding at his lips before he finally blurted out "You look-" the rest of Eric's sentence chickened out when Kyle suddenly turned to him. Eric lingered for a moment before sighing defeatedly and smiling genially "Handsome...Surprisingly"

Kyle chuckled in exasperation and asked "Are back-handed compliments the best I can expect from you?"

"The only compliments I know how to give" Eric replied, stepping closer before saying "Let's go" He extended his thick, bent arm and Kyle was looking at it as if were a chest-burster. Eric grumbled under his breath, grabbing Kyle's arm and yanking him forward and Kyle couldn't help but notice the brief swell of Eric's bicep as he was ragged towards him. "Link arms with me, dumbass! You're my plus-one!" Eric hissed, his voice a warm presence on Kyle's already flushed, angry skin.

Still, Kyle complied, glaring at Eric as he slipped his arm through the crook of Eric's elbow.

"Good boy" Eric murmured jokingly, while Kyle bit back an agitated growl.

They had started to walk leisurely to the entrance, easily mingling with the throngs of other equally well-dressed couples, when Eric said "You could almost pass for a gentleman, Kahl"

"Is that so?"

"Sure" Eric shrugged, he huskily added "Sharply dressed, somewhat affable... Girls like that"

Kyle wasn't really interested in what girls liked.

Eric leaned in a tad closer, adding "And _diamonds_" He squeezed Kyle's arm, his tongue pressed wickedly to the roof of his mouth as he felt the muscle twitch under his fingers. "We like those too"

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **_ Irene is one of my favorite Eric alter-egos, I've been dying to put her in one of my fics! Sorry for such a short chapter, I hope to post the next one either tomorrow or the day after and then the heist will begin! Stay tuned and thank you for reading!_


	4. Me, Myself & Irene

Eric had to hand it to the Joubert jewellers for their choice of venue; Out of all the hotels in New York, the Plaza exuded the classiest glamour fit for a store with such ostentatious clientele, not to mention perfect for the diamond exhibition that was also taking place tonight. The lobby was sparsely populated, simply a means of coming and going for the party and hotel guests, generating a self-important hum that dug under the skin in a not entirely irritating way. No, Eric felt utterly relaxed, he wondered if the same could be said for Kyle. As they made their way over to the concierge, Eric spared him a quick glance. He could practically see the terabytes of information brimming in Kyle's eyes like fireflies on a humid swamp at nightfall.

"Name?" The middle-aged concierge asked, undoubtedly swept off his feet with the influx of people the hotel was seeing tonight.

"Irene Calaway" Eric replied, giving Kyle's arm another encouraging squeeze he added "And this is my handsome date for the evening"

Eric felt Kyle stiffen with agitation, which only made it easier for Eric to don his charming smile.

After reading through the guest list, the concierge looked up and replied cordially "Of course ma'am. Enjoy your night"

"Thank you"

As they followed the other guests into the Grand Ballroom, Kyle leaned in and said. "I better get going" He and Eric were walking at a leisurely, considerate pace, to allow for a brief discussion of how tonight should unfold "I'll notify you when the security cameras are offline and the laser system and motion detectors have been disabled"

"Alright. The exhibition starts in two hours-"

"I'll be done by then"

"I know, I know" Eric replied, blithely defensive "I just wanna make sure you're aware of the parameters"

"That's enough time for you, isn't it?" Kyle asked, subconsciously leading Eric to a secluded corner as he prepared to make his unnoticed exit.

"Plenty"

"Great" Kyle said quickly, unhooking his arm from Eric's "So I guess... Break a leg" He added, with a mildly supportive smile.

Eric simply winked, striding into the ballroom as Kyle sneaked off in the opposite direction. The synchronization feeling as unremarkable as breathing.

Grabbing a flute of champagne from a passing waiter's tray, Eric scanned the ballroom. His objective? Gain access. The puzzle? Finding a way-in. Once he had cracked that it was just a case of improvisation.

Eric downed some of the fizzing, liquid gold as he clocked his target. He remembered reading about the woman who was currently flitting around the room, (shaking hands and kissing cheeks as naturally as the waiters were handing out hors d'oeurves) clad in a nondescript LBD.

_Lights. Camera. And action._

"Bonjour, Mademoiselle Renoir!" Eric greeted the woman, slipping into a feminine, Texan accent in a heartbeat "Congratulations on the store! And on this fabulous event!"

"Merci Beaucoup" The woman replied, with a tight, surprised smile. Brigitte Renoir was the CEO of the recently spawned American branch of Joubert. Unlike most women in the cut-throat world of high-end fashion, she hadn't succumbed to the peer pressure of youthfulness. Crows feet pinched the corners of her decidedly feline eyes and she tried to distract from the creases in her neck by wearing only the most beautiful of pearl necklaces (Joubert, of course). Her accent was an amalgamation of French and some kind of refined American, due to splitting her time between the two countries for nearly thirty years. Hence, why she was given the task of heading the jeweler's first U.S. store. "Forgive me, Miss, but I don't believe we've met"

"Oh, of course, how silly of me!" Eric laughed, a willed blush pinching his skin "Must be the excitement, makin' me open my big ole' mouth without thinkin'! The champagne y'all are servin' can make a girl presemptuous!" Eric laxed his hold on the flute for extra effect, the champagne threatening to spill on the spotless floor. Extending his hand to shake he smiled "Irene Calaway"

"Pleased to meet you" Brigitte shook Eric's hand, exuding a subtle warmth that signaled to Eric a relaxed state. In other words, she had taken his bait. "Your earrings are gorgeous, Mademoiselle Calaway"

Eric's blush deepened "Thank you kindly" He drawled sheepishly "They must be familiar too..."

"Of course, last season's 'cascade' pair"

"I felt it was rather appropriate for this evening, don't you think? My, I'm such a huge fan of the jewelry!" Eric gushed "I remember my daddy bought me the 'St Tropez' ruby necklace for my Sweet 16, oooh, I loved it! And now you've finally opened up shop in the big apple, just as I've moved to the Hamptons, wouldya believe it? Isn't it wonderful when the planets align like that?"

Brigitte nodded staunchly "Definitely" Furrowing her eyebrows, she asked "Did I hear you mention your father?"

"Yes, ma'am"

"And who is he, may I ask? I recall hearing your surname before" Brigitte hadn't. It was bad for business if you lifted the veil of being well-connected. And now wasn't the time for bad business. Eric knew this, he had attended enough upper class events under false pretences to realize that people like Brigitte Renoir didn't have as much 'friends in high places' as they would have people believe.

"Robert Calaway, ma'am? of Calaway Petroleum Corp?" Eric replied, he rubbed the back of his neck bashfully when he added "Usually, I would never dream of name-droppin' but since you asked-"

"Oui, I've heard of the family business" Brigitte lied, Eric almost wanted to offer her a knowing smile of dishonest comradery, but he didn't. He had a business to protect too, after all. "I must tell you what an honour it is that you've attended"

"Gosh, the honor is mine!" Eric implored, with a coy, intoxicated giggle "The chance to see all these beautiful jewels on display! Especially the Neige Perle..."

"According to my spies it's the talk of the evening"

"You sound so surprised, Miss Renoir!" Eric gasped. "Y'all can bet my name will be first on the waitin' list!"

"An heiress to an oil fortune doesn't have to wait for her diamonds, surely?"

"There are bigger fortunes out there, Mademoiselle Renoir" Eric sighed, before smirking "As much as my folks _loathe _the thought"

Brigitte laughed "Oh, how I love the American charm! Some would call it brash-"

"They wouldn't be wrong"

"I find it endearing"

"My charm has certainly worked in my favor over the years, that's for sure"

"And our little French jewelers could certainly benefit from it, if you don't mind my saying" Brigitte insinuated.

"Not at all" Eric grinned.

"As a matter of fact, there's some people I'd like you to meet" Brgitte began, pulling Eric away before he had a chance to protest. But something told Eric that he may not want to do that "I believe they've holed themselves up in one of the conference rooms" Those two words elicited a squirm of visceral excitement in Eric.

"Oh, too shy to mingle, are they?" Eric asked gaily.

Brigitte shook her head and chuckled "Non, just unbelievable perfectionists"

Eric was led to the east wing of the hotel where one of the meeting rooms was acting as a holding area for the jewelry this evening, the whole wing cornered off by security. Naturally, some brute enforcement was required as well, with two surly could-be bouncers blocking the hallway made up of conference and meeting rooms. Brigitte showed her credentials and the security guards let them pass.

Kyle's voice crackled in Eric's ears, causing him to jolt; "Laser systems and motion detectors disabled. Security cameras offline" Eric swatted at the sound as if it were a pesky fly.

They then proceeded into a conference room, where three guys were pacing back and forth, chatting incessantly into bluetooth headsets whilst mindlessly sipping champagne. MacBooks and printed itineraries were abandoned on the long, oak table and Eric was just waiting for one of the men to trip over the haphazardly pulled away chairs.

Brigitte cleared her throat "Gentleman" Her voice commanding enough respect that all three men looked up. "I'd like you meet this charming, young heiress"

A guy with sun-weathered skin and shoulder length hair pompously asked "And who may that be?"

"Irene Calaway, sir" Eric replied, bristled by the guy's obnoxiousness. "Pleased to make your acquaintance" Eric added, extending his hand for him to shake.

With a smirk as repellent and oily as his hair, he shook Eric's hand "Édouard Delon" As Eric tried to resist crushing the douchebag's hand, he leaned over and placed a kiss on each side of Eric's face.

_Christ, guy, is that cologne or gasoline?! _Eric masked his wrinkled nose and tried not to splutter.

Successfully covering up a gag, Eric said breathlessly "My word, Monsieur, you sure know how to make a girl feel welcome!"

Whilst the others laughed, Brigitte said "Édouard is our in-house PR guru"

_Of course he is _"Looks like I oughta keep an eye on you, get to know the man I'm tryna impress" Eric edged closer to him with a coquettish grin.

"You've enchanted me with your looks alone, cherie" Édouard attempted to flirt.

"Oh, stop!" Eric blushed, bowing his head shyly.

Eric wondered if Brigitte was choking on Édouard's cologone as well, when she cleared her throat once more "Irene, I'd also like you to meet Gianni Maddente" she gestured to a grinning, bearded man who seemed decidedly more pleasant than Édouard.

"Ciao" Eric waved.

"He's just one of our brilliant specialists" Brigitte boasted, before gesturing to a shy-looking, fair-haired man "And this is Marcel Laurent, he will be heading up the exhibition this evening"

"It's an honor to meet you both" Eric nodded, his gaze being drawn to the loathsome image of Édouard's 'come-hither' eyes and he hoped a flirtatious smile would be enough to extinguish it.

Brigitte leaned into Eric and murmured teasingly, loud enough for everyone to hear "I implore you, don't be too taken in by Édouard"

"Heavens no!" Eric laughed "My daddy taught me better than to be wooed by suave, handsome French men"

Even Édouard laughed at that, before winking at Eric.

"Eric? Hello? Are you there?" Came Kyle's crisp voice.

_Guess that's my cue..._

"If y'all would excuse me for a minute-" Eric had left the room before he could finish his sentence.

As Eric slipped out of the conference room, he eyed the security guards, their wide (no doubt chemically enhanced) shoulders straining against their t-shirts and rubbing up against each other almost comically. Swiftly taking off his stilettos, he padded down the hallway.

"Eric?"

"Yes, Kahl, I'm here!" Eric hissed, turning a corner.

"Why didn't you respond?"

Eric rolled his eyes incredulously "I was busy" Was his whispered, deadpan response. He was coming up to the holding room, the temporary coded lock that had been installed for this evening was like a cumbersome blemish on the inoffensive wallpaper's pretty complexion. "Do you have the door code?"

"one-eight-two-seven-one-zero"

"Got it"

"Where are you?"

"Outside the holding room" Eric replied, he punched the numbers in and the buttons chimed consensually "Entering the door code and... I'm in!"

"Great - didn't need the commentary - but great" Kyle replied, whilst Eric rolled his eyes. "Leave through the fire exit - I've shut off the alarm - I'll be waiting in the alley"

"Alright. Gotta go." Eric whispered as he stepped inside the holding room. The space seemed to be reliant on daylight and now that the sun had set, the room was in a state of partial slumber. The jewelry, however, was incubated in glowing cases on tall plinths. Eric, smiled, amused, as every diamond, ruby, emerald and sapphire seemed like crystal eggs ready to hatch wondrous creatures; Cold-blooded, magnificently beautiful... And, thanks to Kyle, easily snatched by whatever cross-dressing poachers wanted to steal them from their plush nests. Eric sauntered across the room to where the Neige Perle was being displayed, the web of intricately plotted lasers, dismantled.

The capacity of what a bra could hold, came as a revelation to Eric. The strapless, 40DD one he had worn this evening held a pair of chicken cutlets, his phone, lipstick and a limited edition Swiss army knife which had a glass-penetrating laser pen as one of its attachments. Eric reached for the knife, pulling out the laser pen from the handle and he drew a circle atop the glass case. Unscrewing the piece of glass he had lasered a hole in, Eric considered this the perfect moment for an agonizingly slow, Indiana Jones retrieve, but time was of the essence.

Eric snatched the Neige Perle, tucking the heavy brooch into his bra as he made his exit.

The unforgiving New York chill rolled across Eric's exposed shoulders without preamble, and he swept at the synthetic blond curls that were caught in the wind. Kyle was leaning against a dumpster, preoccupied with the light-hogging skyscrapers twinkling in the distance. He hadn't noticed Eric, and it alerted him to the fact that he had yet to put his shoes on. Eric cocked his head curiously at Kyle, toying with how to get his attention.

"And now for the rendezvous" Eric's searing voice cut through the glassy night. It made Kyle jump, he rolled his shoulders back uncomfortably when he realized who had spoken. "My favorite part of the evening"

"You've had too much champagne" Kyle replied, pulling himself away from the dumpster, watching Eric put his stilettos back on.

"Moi?" Eric teased, pressing a poised hand to his chest.

"Sorry" Eric rolled his eyes at Kyle's confused expression. "The French" Eric paused as he removed his EP. "Their accent, the language... It's so elegant that it's almost contagious"

"It didn't seem to diminish your Texan drawl"

Eric blinked at Kyle, the realization that Kyle had listened to his play all night felt strangely invasive. Eric wondered why it bothered him so much. But he wouldn't let Kyle know of his discomfort, so instead he grinned "Well, you know what they say about practice"

The expression on Kyle's face was unreadable, but Eric couldn't very well stare until he came to a reasonable conclusion. He had stared too long to know that Kyle's expression could not be deciphered. His face felt uncomfortably hot, a mixture of irrational agitation and defeat. Eric stared down at his shoes as the silence festering between them grew more excruciating.

"So what now?" Eric asked, it felt like a tightly wound knot was loosening in his core as the silence came to an end.

"What do you mean?" Kyle asked "You got the diamond?"

Eric reached into his manufactured cleavage, pulling out the diamond with a smirk. Still cold although it had been pressed against Eric's heart.

"Then that's it" Kyle shrugged. "Mission complete" He added after a thoughtful pause.

"Anything else?" Eric asked, unable to cut off the indignant vein running through the question.

Kyle thought for a moment.

Eric waited. _You must have something to say_

"Thank you?" Kyle guessed.

Eric sighed. _Is that the best he can do?_

Eric stepped closer, noticing the expectant flash in Kyle's eyes, obviously waiting for him to make some sarcastic comment. Eric wondered how Kyle could easily predict stuff like that. _Well, you know what they say about practice... And he's had more than twenty years worth when it comes to you. _It's easy to forget about identity when you're charming complete strangers, taking people for suckers and stealing an eighty carat diamond. "For a guy who just hacked into the mainframe of one of the most famous hotels in New York city in less than an hour-" Eric paused, curiously running his finger over Kyle's lapel and smirking when Kyle flinched and pulled away from him. "You're not so quick"

Smoothing down his jacket like he was afraid he had caught Eric's cooties, Kyle stiffly replied "I suppose that's where you and I differ"

"People ain't that hard to read"

"I'll have to take your word on that. You're the expert, after all" Kyle smiled, blatantly unsure. But Eric smiled back anyway. A reusable truce that was never spoken of but was as obvious to the both of them as the discomfort on Kyle's face.

"Well, Kahl, thanks for all your help" Eric said, initiating a handshake.

"You're welcome" Kyle replied, taking Eric's hand in his own "I owe you one"

Eric's hand twitched in surprise, while Kyle's palm became instantly slick "For getting me the job and everything"

Eric nodded, releasing Kyle's hand and doing him a favor by ignoring whatever the Hell that handshake just was. "We'll be in touch"

Some would have called Kyle's awkward - perhaps hostile - nod, weirdly endearing, but Eric... He didn't know what to call it.

As Kyle walked away, without a goodbye, it occurred to Eric that maybe Kyle was the exception. And that there was some fun to be had trying in to figure out a person so infuriatingly difficult to read.

* * *

><p>Irene Calaway had proved to be a successful character, but at the end of the evening she wasn't exactly practical. That damn platinum blond wig grew more and more irritating as the night went on and Eric spent the entire cab ride home scratching at his scalp as if it were infested. Then there was the removal of the make up, the dress, the bra and the spanx (He couldn't bare to look at the spanx, by design they're not exactly the most spacious of underwear and he had never been happier to open his dresser drawer and slip on a pair of black Armani boxers). Maybe he wouldn't have been so antsy to get the damn outfit off if Kyle had stayed to hear out his offer of snagging one little victory drink? But, where Eric was concerned, Kyle was a flight risk and Eric supposed he'd just have to deal with that (whilst trying to figure out exactly what the Hell Kyle's problem was).<p>

Regardless, there was liquor waiting for Eric at his apartment and he wasted no time in kicking off his stilettos and striding over to the bar to make himself a mojito. It was an unorthodox nightcap admittedly, but certainly effective in severing his irritation. As he sipped at his tropical beverage, he raked his eyes over the luminescent ocean of insomnia that was Manhattan, flickering buoys dispersed evenly all the way out to the horizon. Despite the relentless nature of the city, Eric found it somewhat relaxing to stare, participate only as an observer and with his cocktail in his hands his mind drifted to the previous summer he had spent in Barbados; lazing around his sea-side condo, spending the night (and most of the following morning) with whatever tanned, gorgeous surfers were reeled in by his charm and learning to make drinks at the beach bar. And it was a great time, maybe too tranquil, too free, but something Eric considered revisiting once this dishonest way of living lost its appeal. Eric was under no illusions, fickleness seemed to be a genetic disposition, as did refusing responsibility.

Once he had finished his drink, he fumbled with the zip on the side of his dress, the scarlet material pooling around his ankles. Emptying his ridiculously large bra of all its contents, he stared down at himself. The spanx may have been uncomfortable, but it did a pretty good job of sucking everything in. Not like Eric needed to hold a lot in, of course, and while he would have argued he didn't need to lose any weight in the first place, the fast-paced life he was leading had made him considerably trimmer. He left the chicken cutlets and the lipstick on the bar, grabbing the Swiss army knife, his phone and, most importantly, the Neige Perle.

The blond wig was placed on the faceless mannequin head on top of Eric's dresser and he ran his fingers through his disheveled chestnut hair, soothing the agitated hair follicles. _Now to get this fucking crap off my face _Eric groaned, trudging to his porcelain bathroom and rummaging through the full cabinets that hung above his gratuitous marble sink.

Eric often wondered if he would have been able to rent this penthouse apartment on Park Avenue if he had finished college, after all, a degree from Yale promises some pretty lucrative career options (and in the right establishments, opens a few doors). But Eric was impatient, easily bored and too headstrong to stick it out in an institution like that. For as long as he could remember he had been castigated for these traits by people considerably less intelligent than he was, but those supposed 'flaws' were yet to be his downfall.

He wouldn't say that abandoning a History and Languages degree for a life of larceny, grand theft and swindling was the best decision he had ever made. He was only twenty-six, after all. He had a lifetime of good and bad decisions to make, it was too soon to evaluate them. Although, looking in the bathroom mirror, his face stained with faded make-up, and the brilliant bulbs casting a spotlight on his tired eyes, perhaps the whole exertion had aged him. Both physically and mentally. Eric gazed at his arms, still tinted with remnants of the Barbadian sun (his tendency to freckle was a genetic trait he wished he hadn't inherited) and a small, wistful sigh escaped.

_Fuck, get over yourself. How can you mope around when you have an eighty carat diamond in your bedroom?_

Eric shook his head, swiping a pad of cotton wool over his eye and removing the last traces of mascara. The small garbage can under the sink was bulging with used make-up wipes and cotton wool pads; resembling snowballs smeared with coal.

Fresh-faced and clad in designer boxers, he traipsed to his room and gladly flopped down on his California king bed. The darkened room was gently illuminated by the ceaseless lights of the city, and in among the shadows Eric spotted the Neige Perle on his nightstand. Eric rolled the brooch between his fingers, the centerpiece of the brooch (the diamond itself) seemed to open its crystal eyes and every corner that Eric studied winked flirtatiously.

Eric turned to lie on his back, sprawled out on his wide bed and holding the brooch at arms length. As a fog of sleep pervaded his mind, the Neige Perle still tenuously grasping his attention, other thoughts filtered through...

Who exactly would he sell the diamond to.

The looks on Brigitte Renoir and that slimy little Édouard's face when they saw that their prize brooch was gone.

If they even suspected the charismatic heiress who had disappeared not even halfway through the evening.

And before Eric could stop it, there was a flash of obnoxious red hair and an uncomfortable smile. Eric grumbled, that little prick had already plucked at his nerves like they were a guitar he couldn't tune. Couldn't Eric just go to bed with his thoughts void of him?

It wasn't like he thought of Kyle constantly. Eric didn't do fawning, or romance and he would rather scrape roadkill off the underbelly of a city bus than have a crush on the guy. But there was _feeling _there. And that was a big deal to Eric, since he hardly devoted emotion that had unforeseen depth or was totally involuntary, to anyone.

Kyle had always been somewhat of a moral compass for Eric. Since Eric was deprived of his own (or had probably neglected it, since Eric had ridded his system of any memories where remorse or empathy had disrupted his usual self-serving paradigm) and Kyle piously felt it was necessary to do all the moral legwork for them both. Seeing what was essentially his corporeal conscience turn to a business of duplicity came as a shock to Eric, making him wonder if Kyle had been a wolf in sheep's clothing all along. Clearly not, as the expression of horror and shame that lit up Kyle's face upon seeing Eric at their first ever job together three years ago was still firmly etched in Eric's mind. A reunion so bizarre that it only could have happened to them; at the lavish condominium on the other side of the world, owned by a Vietnamese black market trader for Eastern medicine. They hadn't seen each other since high school graduation and now they were working together to steal a rhinoceros horn from a big game exhibition at a hunting lodge in Wellington. Five years had passed since they had last spoken and yet Kyle didn't ask Eric about Yale and in turn Eric didn't inquire about Kyle's seemingly planned out future and how the Hell he had ended up disabling security grids and aiding robberies. But something was proven during that job; they worked well together. And Kyle could be a valuable contact.

If it meant Eric got what he wanted and needed by the end of it, he could stomach Kyle's quirky mannerisms, his irritability and his standoffish attitude. But too much exposure to Kyle had left Eric wondering and soon he was inviting Kyle to birthday celebrations, drinks, _coffee _even. Why did he keep pursuing these things when he knew Kyle would decline the offer? Why was he so persistent? Eric could have put it down to his nature, but surely it was in his nature to not feel anything except contempt for Kyle, right? But things were different now. For one, Kyle was no longer a hindrance to his schemes and two, these past couple of years had shed light on how damn similar they were. Cunning, self-serving, stubborn little shits who always found a way to get what they wanted and nothing short of death could stop them from trying to achieve.

Both at the top of their respective fields.

Both of them were two of the most wanted men in the world.

_He's too damn familiar._

And after severing any ties that may prove to be detrimental to his goals, Eric considered that maybe there was a part of him that needed that familiarity, that closeness, that _bond. _But him and Kyle bonded about as well as kerosene and a lit match. Especially now Kyle had proved himself to be so frustratingly enigmatic... And there was the crux of it all.

Fascination.

Ambivalence.

It was a near heady combination that infected Eric's mind with intrigue and, dare he say it, craving. For what, he wasn't sure. but until he saw Kyle again Eric was no closer to figuring out the puzzle.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** _Never thought I'd name one of my chapters after a Jim Carrey movie, but I just couldn't resist._

_Phew. I've been agonizing over this chapter since I read back 'Home Before Midnight' and was kinda disappointed by how rushed it felt. Especially the part at the end about Kyle. Hopefully this chapter will be better, but when I read stuff back I feel like I'm an incoherent moron who can't write to save her life. I guess I'm just my own worst critic. Rant over._

_Anyway, I hope you enjoyed reading the heist and getting your teeth into that meaty bit of prose at the end. Thank you for reading and reviews are appreciated!_


	5. Family Matters

The cramped space in Kyle's apartment, otherwise known as his 'office' was starved of light, meaning as Kyle drained the remaining slithers of coffee in another now emptied mug, he had no idea what time it was. He had taped over the little digits in the corner of his computer screen, knowing that looking at them would force whatever part of his brain that was still rational, to get some sleep. But he couldn't. He had a huge job coming up and damn it if he was going to fail. Kyle couldn't fail, he had tested the waters of that particular pond and had lived to regret it.

He had fallen asleep on the keyboard about six hours ago and a subconscious jolt woke him from his slumber. He panicked, before making another cup of coffee and continuing his research; numerous tabs were still open and his eyes stung at the harsh glow of the screen.

He was looking over the blueprints for the NRDC's software and security systems in their New York office, when the minimized Skype window started to flash. Kyle furrowed his eyebrows, he had spoken to Mr. Henson sixteen hours ago, negotiating a deal for his services, surely he wouldn't call again, right? What did he want to do, check up on Kyle and see if he was doing his homework?

The date. Kyle froze. Yesterday was the fourteenth.

_So that means today is... Oh, shit!_

A bolt of anxiety shot down Kyle's spine. He quickly scrambled over the keyboard, losing all fluency as he clutched the mouse like a caveman who had never sat in front of a computer before. _I probably look like one too... _Kyle groaned as he clicked on the urgent tab, rubbing his bleary eyes with his free hand.

It was Ike. Seeing his brother's name and the undertones of sweet hopefulness it carried, made Kyle's stomach ache that had nothing to do with the copious amounts of caffeine he had been mindlessly drinking. Pure, unadulterated guilt. No matter how much it tugged at Kyle's heart, the pain never wore away.

Kyle had reluctantly reached out to Ike via Skype two years ago. He figured it was a start in trying to repair the damage he had done, and Kyle even winced at that infantile step of talking to his little brother who would support him unconditionally. His parents were disappointed, deeply so, too deep for Kyle to even fathom. They loved him, and he in turn loved them too. But it was too soon, too God damn soon, or at least that's what Kyle told himself. Kyle also figured this was a way to keep some concerned tabs on Ike, make sure he wasn't struggling in his prestigious and renowned college (Kyle knew what that felt like) and that he was generally okay.

"Hi!" Ike's face broke out into his wide, trademark Canadian smile as soon as he appeared on the screen. But it was too pixellated, too virtual, even for Kyle. Ike's smile turned into one of uneasy concern when Kyle's face became clearer on his own screen "Woah, you look uh- Anyway, rough night?"

"No, no, just busy. You know, work and stuff..." Kyle replied, stifling a yawn before he laughed "Anyway, forget about me, happy birthday, man!"

Ike ran his hand through his disheveled black quiff "Thanks..."

"Twenty-one already... Do you realize how old I feel?" Kyle replied, the 'big brother' role felt as comfortable as a childhood security blanket "I remember when you were little enough to pass for a football"

Ike chuckled "Luckily I grew out of that pretty quickly, before you kicked me over the mountains and ended up losing me forever"

It was too early in the morning and Kyle hadn't had enough sleep and he was too sensitive. The end of Ike's sentence bristled him, like a wrongly applied acupuncture needle "I wouldn't do that. Do you have any idea what mom and dad would have done to me if I'd lost you?"

_If you're even thinking of pulling at that particular thread then you definitely need some sleep._

Ike pursed his lips together, possibly trying to conceal the wrong words and Kyle had to stare down at the keyboard until his brother said something. God knows Kyle didn't feel like saying anything after that.

Kyle didn't see Ike nodding slowly, but he heard his weak response "Yeah, they'd uh, be pretty pissed"

"More than that" Kyle replied honestly, figuring that was the best thing to be right now. He asked the next question with caution, unsure whether he wanted to know the answer "How are they anyway?"

"What, you haven't called them?" Ike asked.

_Not since... Fuck, I can't remember._

The realization made Kyle defensive, and he didn't want his innocent little brother to be the recipient of it. "No, I've been" Kyle paused, Ike's disappointed face decimating the words. Kyle's eyes broke away from the screen when he muttered "Busy"

"Work is pretty hectic, huh?" Ike asked, there was no escaping the rueful, cynical quality of his voice.

"Like you wouldn't believe" Kyle replied, his tone close to his brother's.

Ike sighed before he replied "Well, they're good, they talk about you a lot" Kyle's eyebrows raised in surprise at that, a brief spot of light encroaching on his guilt "They'll probably call me later so do you want me to pass on anything?"

Kyle closed his eyes for a second, as if deliberating what he wanted to say. Although he didn't need to think, he already knew. He opened his eyes and said earnestly "Just that I'm thinking about them"

"I meant anything about you?" Ike asked, an amused twitch in his smile.

Kyle balked slightly "Oh" His throat clenching around the word. He said with a little more clarity "Tell them I'm doing great"

"Are you sure?"

Kyle wondered why Ike was doubting him, until he realized how he must have looked to his brother. Especially out of context. Kyle waved his hand dismissively "Yeah, totally this is just... " He paused, looking for a word that didn't sound too troublesome "A fluke, I'm not usually so zombified"

It seemed to placate Ike's concerns "Cool" He laughed, before shyly rubbing the back of his neck and admitting sheepishly "Maybe this is just my sentimental birthday brain talking but I miss you"

Kyle's fatigue threatened to open floodgates, and there seemed to be an unbearably human pain pervading from Kyle's heart at his brother's words. He felt remorse, injustice and withdrawal... Withdrawal from everything and everyone he had abandoned.

"I miss you too, Ike" Kyle thinly replied, but his voice was full and Kyle swallowed the lump in his throat.

"Well, if your calendar ever clears up you can stop by?" Ike asked, Kyle flinched silently. _Please don't do this, Ike..._ "Stay a couple of nights? Meet some of my friends? Buy your baby brother a drink?"

Kyle exhaled heavily, preparing to deliver his usual answer. "I don't know, Ike. I'm swamped with deadlines and I'm never really in the area"

Ike's hazel eyes were like emotionless abysses when he replied "Alright" Kyle could barely make out the small, solemn line his mouth was set in.

"I'm sorry, Ike" Kyle replied sincerely, the guilt visibly etched on his face "I don't wanna put a damper on your day, it's just-"

Ike shook his head, like he wasn't even listening. But did he really need to? He had heard the same speech before "No, I know. It's my fault, I, I shouldn't have asked" A caustic smile was on his face when he said "Only setting myself up for disappointment, right?"

"And what does that mean?" Kyle asked, his anger flaring, but he knew God damn well who it was directed at. And it wasn't the poor kid who needed his brother right now.

"Why don't you figure it out, Kyle?" Ike snapped. Kyle winced. "Why don't you try putting in some God damn effort?"

Still, no matter who the blame was pointing at, Kyle couldn't help but explode defensively "Grow the fuck up, Ike!" He immediately regretted it, but he was too damn stubborn to take it back. He had bottled it up for too long. And he was out of his chair when he continued "Christ, why the Hell are you being so unfair? I'm not in the mood for your fucking tantrums, okay? I've hardly slept and I'm too exhausted to deal with his bullshit!"

Ike delivered the crushing blow, shoving Kyle back to the reality of the situation "You're not the only one, Kyle"

Kyle deflated, he slowly sat back down as he sighed forlornly "Shit, I've screwed this up, Ike" Kyle buried his head in his hands, trying to say as clearly as he could "I'm so sorry... For everything. Really"

Kyle could hear the crackled rustling of Ike shifting in his chair, before a small voice lifted Kyle's head from his hands "That's a start" Kyle smiled appreciatively, and Ike grinned back, though both were marred with sadness "And I accept it"

As with most of their conversations, the brothers' shared angst became too hard to ignore and they knew the video call was going to end soon. Even Kyle's apology couldn't salvage it, because it wasn't enough and Kyle didn't know what else he could do.

"So how is Harvard going?" Kyle asked, attempting to thaw the frosty turn the conversation had typically taken "Your classes?"

"Harvard's great" Ike smiled genially "My classes are difficult but I'm getting there"

"Well, that's good" Kyle replied "I'm proud of you"

"That means a lot" Ike smiled tightly.

Kyle coughed as he awkwardly began "I've, uh, sent you an email... With a little birthday card attachment... And I should be getting some money to put into your account real soon" Eric hadn't been in touch with Kyle regarding the Neige Perle, and seeing Ike only made Kyle more antsy to get his cut.

Ike nodded "Thanks, Kyle"

"You're welcome" Kyle replied, he laughed shortly "That's what big brothers do, right?" The irony wasn't lost on Kyle, in fact, it was toe-curlingly obvious.

"Right" Ike agreed unconvincingly. "Get some sleep before you short circuit or something"

"I will" Kyle chuckled, thinking that maybe he should. He continued, trying to sound as firm as possible "I'll talk to you soon"

"Yeah, hopefully" Ike exasperatedly replied. "Bye"

They were quickly disconnected and Kyle had no fucking clue how to ease the sting.

Kyle sighed, staring up at the ceiling before closing his eyes in a vain attempt to find his center. He felt so much calmer when the world was on balance, on point, having control was exhilarating, reassuring and the best kind of loneliness there was. Being helpless and isolated was far too painful, and every anchored breath he took seemed to unwind the knotted muscle that was his questionable heart. An invisible moon seized the tide, his lungs inflating and deflating like the ebb and flow of a sea at night time. In and out... _He's better off without me. They all are. _In and out... _Too much damage. Can't go back. _In and out... _What can I offer them besides shame and disappointment? _In and out... _Better. This is much better. _In and out... _I miss him so much. I hope I didn't ruin his day. _In and out... _But I'm taking care of him, I always will. _In and out... _Eric better call me soon. Before I call him. God knows I'm too proud to do that..._

The ugly, cacophony of vibration against the desk, snapped Kyle out of his thoughts. His phone skidded against the wood and with an annoyed grimace, Kyle snatched it before it could fall to the floor.

Kyle chuckled to himself, exhaling from his nose and shaking his head when he saw the name plastered on the screen.

"It's about fucking time..." Kyle said, answering the phone and pawing at his tired eyes.

"Wow, Kahl, that is no way to answer the phone"

"I don't always answer it like that"

"Only when you have sand in your vagina?"

Kyle scowled, the crisp sound of Eric's laughter so close to his ear effortlessly pissed him off. Still, Kyle relaxed his tensed shoulders and adopted a wry smirk "You know what? It's funny you should call-"

"Really?" Eric asked "And why is that?"

"Because I was thinking about you" Kyle replied, his filter shutting down after too many restless hours.

"Now I'm intrigued with the direction this conversation is taking" Eric replied, Kyle could almost hear his shit-eating grin "Let me guess, you've just come out of the shower, right?"

"What?" Kyle asked, confused, before it dawned on him and he snapped "Oh God, no!" He slapped a palm to his forehead and continued "Sick! I didn't mean it that way!"

It was too late, Eric was too busy laughing his ass off "Where's your hand, Kahl?" He asked, comically husky and lecherous.

"Knock it off!" Kyle whined, a humiliated, irritated flush reddening his skin "That's gross!" He frowned, before Eric's laughter died down and he clarified "I was thinking about the Neige Perle, douchebag. I want my cut"

"Then you'd be glad to know that fifteen thousand dollars should be coming your way shortly"

"Great" Kyle replied unenthusiastically. He would have been in a better mood upon hearing the news, but he was still too irritated. "Thank you" Kyle said, planning on hanging up, having no desire whatsoever to continue the conversation.

"Wait-"

"What?"

There was a disconcerting pause down the line before Eric asked "How are you?"

Kyle furrowed his eyebrows at the question, unsure whether he wanted to answer it. "... Fine" He replied, shaking his head at how long it took for him to respond "Stressed, actually. And really busy too, so I can't talk"

"Can I help?" Eric asked.

The question raised Kyle's confusion and suspicions even more "When have you ever wanted to help anyone with anything?"

"Since always" Eric replied, his tone was so disingenuously sincere that it was infuriating "I'm a generous person, Kahl"

"Oh, I don't deny that... " Kyle sardonically replied.

Hearing Eric genuinely laugh was always a surprise. What was more surprising was the smile that subconsciously twitched in the corner of Kyle's mouth "Seriously, Kahl" Eric pressed on, void of mirth or deceit "Tell me"

Kyle was too tired to resist "Alright, I'm stressed over a job"

"No! You?" Eric teased "I thought nothing stressed you out! What, with your aloofness and composure and resting bitch face..."

"Yeah well- Wait, _I _have a resting bitch face?!"

"I hate to be the one to break it to you"

"Please, you fucking delight in breaking bad news to people"

"No I don't!" Eric argued "Unless it was of my own doing..."

Kyle sighed "Okay, if this is going to turn into a discussion of how big a sociopath you are, I'm out. One, because I haven't got time, and two, because I am busy and exhausted"

"Then get some sleep" Eric suggested

"You think you're the first person to tell me that?"

"Yes" Eric replied "Wait, who _was_ the first person?"

Kyle sagged in exhaustion at the memory of his brother's video call "Nobody, forget about it. Look, have I made myself clear?"

"No"

"I'm. Hanging. Up"

"Kahl!" Eric snapped, wanting to keep Kyle on the line "Hold on, God damn it!"

Kyle grumbled "This better be good"

"What's the job?" Eric asked "I figure it must be a big deal if you're so-"

"It is" Kyle interrupted, wanting to speed the conversation along as fast as possible. Plus, he wasn't too comfortable with discussing his work woes with Eric "It's espionage work and as you probably guessed, it's not something I'm familiar with"

"Doesn't sound too difficult" Eric replied, oozing arrogance.

"Obviously, because you do that shit all the fucking time!" Kyle snapped, Eric was prodding and pulling at his patience like a curious toddler "I'm not an actor, or a spy-"

"Well, I am."

"Yes, thank you for reminding me"

"No, what I mean is, I can help you"

"What?"

"Look, anybody can be a grifter" Eric began to explain "Not everybody can be an amazing one like yours truly, but still... Wouldn't it be a load off your mind to have help and advice from somebody as knowledgeable as me?"

"I'm often blinded by your modesty" Kyle quipped, ever so droll.

"See! You're already a sarcastic asshole! You're halfway there!"

"Thanks for the offer, Eric but I-"

"You'll regret this" Eric interrupted. Kyle gritted his teeth.

"No I won't"

"Yes you will"

"No I won't"

"Yes you will"

Kyle groaned, clutching a fistful of hair so tight that he could feel weak strands snapping "God, you're not gonna hang up until I agree to this, are you?"

"How well you know me..." Eric drawled.

"Fine"

"Great!" Eric replied, way too chipper "Be at my apartment tomorrow afternoon, you have my address, right?"

"No"

"I'll text you" Eric assured.

"Whatever" Kyle replied shortly "I'm going to bed"

"Yeah, you best get your beauty sleep, Kahl" Eric joked "I don't want my doorman confusing you with a hobo and turning you away"

"Fuck you" Kyle replied exasperatedly, although, admittedly, he did look like a mess "See you tomorrow"

Kyle didn't wait for Eric's reply. He hung up, before shutting off his computer, trudging to his bedroom and collapsing on his bed (that had never felt warmer). And as he buried his face in the duvet, his nose pressed into the mattress, he wondered what the Hell he had gotten himself into for tomorrow afternoon. But right now, he was too exhausted to care.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** _Hopefully some better character development for Kyle in this chapter. And, also, Ike! Yay! I've never written him in detail before, but he's awesome and I love him and Kyle's relationship, so I hope I did it justice. The conversation between Kyle and Eric was way too fun to write (Then again, when is writing dialogue between them not fun? Gahh, I love those fucking dorks!) Beware of some Kyman chemistry next chapter, we're getting there slowly._

_Thank you for reading and I'd love to hear what you thought!_


	6. Wanna Be Like You

Of course Kyle was going to be a little apprehensive about going to Eric's apartment. He was always a tad wary of being in on Eric's secrets, or complicit in his schemes, and such a readily made invitation drummed a dull ache in Kyle's stomach, both of trepidation and possible regret. _Never make plans when you're sleep deprived. _Kyle thought he would have figured that out by now. Regardless, when Eric texted him the address of his apartment, Kyle was curious and - subsequently - impressed. Admittedly, Park Avenue seemed like the perfect place for Eric, and Kyle imagined he fitted in just fine there. And if he didn't, Kyle knew that Eric would make sure he did.

They were currently sat on opposite ends of Eric's large, corner couch that pretty much encompassed the entire living room (upholstered in dominatrix black leather and alarmingly deep, as Kyle discovered when he practically fell into it) and while Eric was reading through the papers Kyle thrusted at his chest in lieu of greeting him, Kyle chose not to fill the silence. Instead, he took the opportunity to study the room, fashionably muted with sporadic bursts of color, most notably from the iridescent army of bottles on the ornate bar. The couch was situated in an alcove on the floor, a tall glass coffee table sat in front of it and directly ahead of Kyle, a grand black television hung on the wall. It seemed like your typical rich playboy bachelor pad. But since Kyle knew that Eric rarely entertained guests (probably for the same reason that Kyle was the only one to set foot in his own apartment), the place was not for spectators. Rather, it was a project of personal aesthetic, something pleasing to Eric's eye when he came home. Kyle had to give Eric credit for making the most of it all, Kyle knew he was lucky to have the type of job he did; good pay, globe-trotting and, for an adventure seeker like himself, exciting. But Kyle was starting to doubt whether he was so enamored with the fleeting nature of it all, and since his conversation with Ike was still a very fresh wound, Kyle wondered whether he was just going through the motions, mindlessly absorbing... _Sleepwalking._

"What grade did I get?" Kyle asked, Eric's fixed stare on the papers was a tad amusing.

"What?" Eric asked, Kyle's voice interrupted his skim-reading, he was too distracted stealing curious glances of Kyle to properly study it.

"You're reading that thing like it's a thesis" Kyle replied and he tried to think of a good title. "'Obtaining Six Hundred and Fifty Thousand Dollars For Duplicitous Means: An Analysis of Espionage'"

"That's not how theses are usually titled" Eric mumbled, with a small smirk.

Something bobbed in Kyle's throat, and heat burned shyly on his face when he quietly replied "Well, I've never written one..." More like he never got the chance to.

"Clearly, as this appears to be a very sparse cheat sheet on the matter"

"Well, I told you this isn't my strong suit!" Kyle snapped, wanting to expel whatever information Eric was trying to get out of him, and some niggling inferiority complex that Kyle wanted to smother with his neglected scotch made him feel so intensely alienated from Eric and his fancy penthouse apartment "And since when did I need to write a fucking thesis for you?"

Eric grumbled under his breath, slamming the papers down on the coffee table "You don't!" Eric replied with frustration "It's your fault we're even talking about them in the first place!"

Kyle backed down then, relaxing as much as he could into the undoubtedly soft cushions, although his shoulders were fiercely tight, like an eagle had dug its talons into the skin. He kept staring at the scotch, figuring some social lubricant would put him at ease. Eric, meanwhile, sighed at the defensive figure sitting on his couch, a foreign arrow of pity swivelling and plunging straight into his chest. He didn't know what the fuck was up with Kyle. Why was he so withdrawn all of a sudden? Eric considered that maybe it was best to ignore it and get straight to business. He could tell Kyle wanted that. "Do you want my help?" Eric asked, razored with impatience.

"Begrudgingly, yes" Kyle replied, picking up his scotch and taking a small sip.

"Good enough" Eric sighed, quickly getting to his feet and Kyle followed suit.

Again, Kyle watched Eric pick up the papers from the table and read them. It wasn't a lot; just details of the job and the preparation Kyle knew he could confidently do (i.e. setting up a bank account and online profile for his alias). It was the performance he needed help with even though he had always been a decent liar. But all of that seemed like child's play, a collection of white lies. Kyle's regular work was so covert that he required no masque or persona. But six hundred and fifty thousand dollars was a lot of money to add to his savings, and pretending to be an eager young lawyer didn't seem like a Herculean task. After all, he had been in the company of lawyers since childhood; Kyle remembered a lot of well-spoken men in suits congregating in his old living room, smoking cigars with his father who seemed so wise.

The job itself was undoubtedly going to cause further battering to his moral compass. Spying on the NRDC and passing that information on to a nuclear power tycoon - who the organisation was suing for dumping damaging amounts of toxic waste into the Gulf of Alaska - would have appalled the version of himself Kyle knew from youth. _Forget about me _Kyle thought _Stan would have a fucking seizure if he knew about this. _And for the first time in a long time, Kyle actually smiled fondly when he thought of Stan. The guilt somehow less crippling.

"I like your alias" Eric finally said, still raking his gaze over the paper. Kyle's smile of relief vanished as soon as it appeared when Eric added "But don't get too excited. Names are pretty trivial in the grand scheme of things"

"How?"

"Think of it this way" Eric began to explain "If the Mona Lisa didn't have a name, would it take away from how beautiful it is?"

"No, I suppose not"

"Exactly!" Eric replied, becoming more animated and Kyle supposed it was nice that Eric could still extract some passion from his career. It made Kyle almost feel... hopeful. Then again, the first breath Eric ever took was probably only half-true. Dishonesty was intrinsic to his being. "And it's the same with your alias! You could give your character a name that a screenwriter or novelist would swoon over, but if you don't give it a voice, the gait, the charm, or load it with a back-story that people want to listen to, then you're screwed"

"Why would I need a back-story?" Kyle asked "It's not as if I'm gonna be talking too much-"

"We all need a back story, Kahl" Eric explained simply. "Without a back-story, we wouldn't even be standing in this apartment! If every event just magically erased after the fact then there'd be no humanity, right?"

Kyle blinked at Eric's words. If that was an idle line delivered by one of Eric's crafted characters then that was mildly impressive. However, if that was an honest, moral philosophy that Eric had stumbled upon during this mini-lecture then that was... Incredible. Kyle always knew Eric had some sort of depth, that he was too stubborn to let anybody see, but now that Kyle was shown just a glimpse of it, he wanted to know exactly how deep it ran.

Eric blushed. Kyle raised his eyebrows in not entirely unpleasant surprise, watching Eric rub the back of his neck and reach for his own scotch. "Fuck, that was a bit heavy for a Saturday afternoon wasn't it?" Eric chuckled, not making eye contact.

Kyle shrugged, not wanting to put a damper on Eric's epiphany. "A little"

Eric took a swig of his scotch "And not entirely relevant. But you get my point, right?"

Kyle smirked "I think the philosophical tangent really drove it home" Kyle couldn't help it.

"Aha!" Eric exclaimed, his eyes brightening triumphantly as he edged towards Kyle "See, that's what I was waiting for!"

"What?" Kyle asked, mildly startled.

"Sarcasm!" Eric beamed "Kahl, you're a smartass-"

Kyle rolled his eyes and quipped "And you figured that out all by yourself?" Eric was already grinning smugly when Kyle realized that he had played into exactly what Eric was hoping for. Kyle ground his teeth, his skin prickling.

"And with that you've proven my point and achieved nothing" Eric nearly sneered it.

"It's not exactly the greatest thing about me" Kyle pointed out.

"On the contrary, it could be used to your advantage"

A predatory, menacing shadow rolled across Eric's irises. Kyle imagined it was probably the same shade Eric's eyes adopted when he was on a job, his eloquent tongue fashioning one lie after another. Split personalities. Two different lives housed in one tomb. It was fascinating, and Kyle figured he had a lot more to learn about Eric than he previously thought.

"Okay, I don't know what the dictionary definition of sarcasm is, but frankly, I don't need to because the human embodiment of it is standing in my living room" Eric joked, rousing a small self-deprecating laugh from Kyle.

"But it's a form of lying, isn't it?" Eric continued "If you were to pick it apart and get it down to a subatomic level, that's what you'd be left with. But it's the tone - tone is key - when you're being sarcastic, the tone of your voice is meant to be noticed, the words are not. Acting, again, if you were to scrutinize it and put in it's simplest form-"

"Is this your thesis on the art of deceit, by any chance?" Kyle smirked.

Eric thought for a moment "Yes" He lowered his voice playfully "It wasn't really appreciated at Yale, though"

All Kyle could do was smile. Without even thinking about it. And he had no idea what the Hell had gotten into him, why this was actually _enjoyable _But if Eric was conning him, taking him for a fool, Kyle had yet to find out and when he did there would be swift retribution. If this was genuine then Kyle had nothing, but for some reason, he wanted to believe.

"Anyway, acting - again - is a form of lying. Of deceiving people, masquerading as somebody else." Eric explained "The difference with acting is, that it requires more than one emotion. In the case of sarcasm, not just being a cynical little bitch"

"I get it" Kyle sighed, noting the pointed conclusion of Eric's sentence. "Very subtle"

"All you have to do, Kahl, is harness whatever weird Jew Skywalker sarcastic force you have and say it with a smile. And like you mean it"

"Wait, so suddenly I'm Luke Skywalker?"

"No. Jew Skywalker"

"So that makes you?..."

"Obi Wan Kenobi, duh" Eric replied "Come on, we're losing focus and I'm kinda on a roll here."

"Alright" Kyle smiled, remnants of laughter evident in his voice "But can I ask something first?"

Eric nodded "Sure"

"What was with the big spiel on the link between acting and sarcasm?" Kyle asked, folding his arms over his chest because the competitive side of him wanted to catch Eric out. Make him nervous "Because if that was just the scotch talking, I'm not sure your advice is so reliable..."

Eric laughed and looked up at the ceiling, and Kyle took that as a sign of defeat. "I don't know" Eric shrugged "I just figured that maybe you'd be panicking over it or something. Like you wouldn't be able to do it. Acting, I mean" Eric's voice tapered off shyly.

Kyle balked. _Now I'd say we're on pretty even footing. Damn him _"Yeah... " Kyle admitted sheepishly, not knowing how to feel after being read so easily "I suppose I kinda was"

"And I wanted to tell you that you could do it" Eric replied, just as sheepish.

They both wondered what the fuck was going on. How rapidly and erratically the tone could shift with them...

Different ends of the spectrum.

A color clash.

Eric coughed into his fist and tried to even out the atmosphere into something they were both comfortable with. "You really hate me right now, don't you?"

"No, I wouldn't say that" Kyle replied, tangling Eric's thoughts further "What next?" Kyle asked.

"Back-story" Eric replied, thankful for small mercies. "It's very important" Eric reiterated, flicking through the papers again "Let's see... " He muttered, as he casually perused "Thomas Walsh. Thirty-four. Graduated law at the University of Chicago-" He paused, looking up at Kyle "Nice touch choosing a school out of state"

"I just figured it was best to keep my distance"

"Yeah... I get that" Eric replied, so quietly that it stripped back the whitewash. The words pierced Kyle with curiosity and blasphemous thoughts. _Maybe we're not so different- _"Employed at the organization's Washington D.C. office" Eric's voice thankfully interrupted him. "And since I know you run a pretty tight ship with your jobs I'm assuming you've created all the necessary paperwork?"

"Yep, I emailed all of that over to their New York office" Kyle replied "On the D.C. server"

"Always efficient" Eric replied, subtly impressed.

"Well, if I ever fuck up I got a lot to lose" Kyle replied "Details are crucial, even you understand that"

"Of course"

"So anything that I need to add?" Kyle asked.

"Nothing that needs to be on this piece of paper"

Before Kyle could press further, Eric dropped the papers back on the coffee table and began to circle him. His gaze was solemn and focused, unemotionally intense, and Kyle stiffened with confusion.

"Um, what are you doing?" Kyle asked.

"Am I making you uncomfortable?"

Kyle huffed at Eric's infuriating response, before he realized he wasn't. He wasn't uncomfortable with Eric being so close to him. He wasn't uncomfortable with Eric's eyes being on him. He wasn't uncomfortable with the smell of Eric's expensive cologne mingling with liquor, in fact, Kyle was breathing it in gladly and he had no idea why. _That's _what was making him uncomfortable. But that wasn't Eric's fault, was it? "No. No, you're not."

"Am I making you nervous?" Eric asked.

And Kyle knew the answer to that question "Yes"

Eric stopped suddenly "That's what it's gonna feel like when you walk into the NRDC lobby" He started circling Kyle again, more relaxed now. Less closely "People are gonna be looking at you, probably not even batting an eyelid because you're gonna look pretty inconspicuous. They'll probably be too absorbed in their own drama, or moping about dolphins getting stuck in fishing nets or something, but odds are that you're gonna be the last thing on their mind. So try to remember that, whilst also knowing that you're not invisible. You're not alone, Kahl, and while people can be pretty damn gullible" Eric stopped in front of Kyle and continued "They are not machines, and are not so easily manipulated"

"You don't think I know that?" Kyle hissed, and Eric stepped back a little. Kyle snapped "This is scaring the fucking crap outta me!"

"No!" Eric said, the last thing he wanted was to frighten or overwhelm Kyle. "You can't be scared! Thomas Walsh isn't scared, right? He's excited to be at the headquarters of an organization he's passionate about! He may be a dirty God damn hippie, but with his suit on and his law degree, he's smart, confident, argumentative, inquisitive and he knows exactly what he's worth. When he walks into that lobby, gets in that elevator and shakes the hands of all those fellow lawyers in that boardroom, he does it safe in the knowledge that there's nothing untoward about him. He _deserves _to be there. So forget the job, forget the payout, forget the recording device pinned to your clothes, because that's none of Thomas Walsh's business!"

Kyle was almost as breathless as Eric when he finished.

Eric exhaled and said softly "When people look at you, talk to you, ask you questions... You gotta detach yourself from who you really are. They don't care about you, they care about who you need to be. The sooner you realize that, the sooner you'll realize that there's nothing scary to this. And letting needless fear get in the way, is what gets you caught"

Kyle wondered if Eric liked detachment. Or if he was just so used to it that he knew no different.

"Eric... I, um, I don't-" Kyle was speechless. Even his thoughts were stuttering.

"We need to work on your posture" Eric declared, doing a complete one fucking eighty on the lesson.

"What do you mean?" Kyle protested "There's nothing wrong with my-"

Kyle was interrupted by a warm palm pressed to his back and a waxy shiver crawled down the wick of his spine.

"Back straight" Eric instructed shortly, his disembodied voice was behind Kyle. "No hunching, too timid"

Kyle complied and Eric smiled, moving his palms to Kyle's shoulders. Gentle and unphased, like there was no reason that his hands shouldn't be there. "Shoulders back" Eric's voice ghosted Kyle's hair and tickled the marbled skin behind his ear.

"Easy there" Eric laughed "We don't want them too far back. You're not peacocking... Or whatever it's called, okay?" Eric shook his head at the word vomit and continued "Just far back enough so that it shows natural confidence" So Kyle did as he was told, rolling and relaxing his shoulders under Eric's guiding hands. "Right" Eric smiled, satisfied with Kyle's improved posture. And Kyle couldn't help but smirk too.

Eric stepped around to the front to see if there were any other issues. After deciding there was none, he thought some other tips may come in handy. "Things to remember. If you ever bow your head don't leave it down for too long, especially when you're talking, okay? Don't mumble when it isn't necessary. Eye contact is tricky, no pro-longed staring but don't be afraid to look at people directly when you talk to them"

"This just seems like basic social etiquette" Kyle pointed out "Which I'm aware of"

"Well, it doesn't hurt to be reminded every now and then" Eric replied "Plus, this isn't gonna be a normal social situation. You're conning these people, most of what will come out of your mouth will be pure bullshit. I know it's easy to panic when you get started, and when you panic you forget about etiquette and resort to primal survival mode. Trust me, you'll thank me for this little lesson"

Still, Kyle was unconvinced that he needed to be taught manners by Eric Cartman.

"Now... It's all well and good to have the posture and gait down pat" Eric started "But facial expression is important too. You need to be able to deceive with your mouth, your brows, even your eyes - as cliché as that may sound - It all needs to be... Air tight, for lack of a better word."

Kyle nodded.

"Good. Now let's see you smile"

"Huh?" Kyle raised a skeptical eyebrow.

"Just give me your most confident smile" Eric replied "I wanna see what we're working with here"

It took Kyle all he had not to pout stubbornly, but he managed a smile. The comfortable, photogenic smile that didn't require a lot of effort to conjure.

Eric, however, was steered off course by illuminated features, pearly white teeth and dimples you could swim in. He had to bite the inside of his mouth, lest he reciprocate a goofy smile of his own. He was resigned to Kyle's usual grins of mirth, sarcastic smirks and smiles of amused exasperation. This smile seemed wholly content, refreshingly genuine and void of cynicism. It pricked holes in places that Eric thought were untouchable. _And what happened then? Well, in Manhattan, they say, Eric Cartman's heart grew three sizes that day._

Eric blinked, inwardly squirming at that unavoidable human weakness we call 'emotion'. Especially when it was associated with someone who intrigued and pissed him off in equal measures. "Alright" Eric said, figuring he needed to cut this shit out.

Kyle's smile faltered into a smirk more familiar "Anything that needs to be improved?"

"No" Eric's throat was dry and he quickly swallowed "No, there's, uh, nothing wrong with it"

Kyle shot him a grateful look and Eric tried to acknowledge it the best that he could. Clearly, sentiment was not something that meshed so easily with them.

"Ready for a run-through?" Eric offered, reminding himself why Kyle was here in the first place.

"Why not?" Kyle grinned confidently "I'm feeling pretty good"

"Okay" Eric closed his eyes and cleared his throat, preparing himself. When he opened his eyes, his face was set in a comically pompous expression and his voice had dropped five, booming octaves when he said "Hello, young man-"

Eric was interrupted by Kyle's laughter, it was infectious enough to make Eric chuckle too. "You can't laugh, asshole!" Eric tried to reprimand, punching Kyle softly on the shoulder "What if you did that during the job, Kahl?"

"I highly doubt that the lawyers are gonna sound that idiotic" Kyle replied, laughter still creased on his face.

"Yes they are" Eric cleared his throat and donned the voice again, this time extending a hand for Kyle to shake "Hello, young man, I'm a fancy lawyer and self-righteous hippie, will you be auditing our meeting today?"

Kyle pursed his lips together tightly, swallowing his laughter and exhaling shakily. But he had to play the part. He followed all of Eric's instructions; his shoulders were casually straight, his stance professional and controlled and his facial expression was charming and affable. "Yes sir" Kyle replied genially, shaking Eric's hand " I'm Thomas Walsh from the D.C. office. I must say how thrilled I am to be given the opportunity"

Eric nodded, an impressed half-smile on his face. "Damn it, that was good" Eric said almost resentfully.

"Really?" Kyle asked, surprised by how much he cared.

"Sure" Eric said, like he didn't know how Kyle could think otherwise. "Clear introduction, confident facial expressions, firm handshake... You're better at this than I thought"

"I'm not a bad liar" Kyle slipped his hand from Eric's grip.

Eric looked down at Kyle when he pointed out "You'll never be great, though"

"I think that's best left to you"

"Definitely... " Eric teased, before fidgeting awkwardly. He tore his gaze away from Kyle and the memory of his smile and glanced instead at the scotches on the table "You wanna refill?" Eric hastily asked.

"What?" Kyle whispered, breaking out of the thick haze of distraction, he replied "Yeah, sure. Thanks"

"Another scotch?"

"Please"

"Coming right up" Eric smiled, quickly turning away from Kyle and making his way to the bar.

Kyle's gaze followed Eric as he walked to the bar, and his eyes were still on him when he slowly sat down on the couch. He watched, perplexed, as Eric made their drinks.

"I better head home after this one though" Kyle added, but was counting on a couple more scotches.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** _Since it is the holiday season, I thought why not throw in a Grinch reference?_

_So an important chapter. A very nerve-wracking one for me to post. Finally building on the Eric and Kyle chemistry, please drop a little review and tell me what you thought. The opinions of you guys reading means a lot to me and is very helpful. Tell me if you liked it, if you didn't, was it what you were expecting... I'm very eager to hear what you think. And I want to try to get the balance right, if you known what I mean. _

_Ooh, also, I know these updates have been fairly regular and speedy, but since I've got a mountain of assignments due in for University over these next two weeks, chapter 7 might be up a little bit late. Sorry, I'll try not to keep you waiting too long. Until next time, thank you for reading! _


	7. Ghost of Childhood's Past

As the meeting came to a close, Kyle made a beeline for the elevator. He was interrupted only momentarily to shake the hands of his temporary 'associates' and decline the offer of joining them in Miller's office for a quick scotch, telling them he had a lunch date that he couldn't miss, which - unlike most of the things Kyle had told them during the last three hours - was true. But Kyle did take up the offer of joining them at the nearby bar this evening, hoping that he may be able to obtain further information more easily liberated under the influence of happy hour.

Kyle exhaled in relief when he found himself in a lonely elevator, smiling as he pressed the 'ground floor' button.

The smudged, silver doors were just about to slide shut when Kyle heard a voice.

"Wait, excuse me, could you hold that, please?"

"Oh, yeah, sure," something about the voice made Kyle want to heed to it immediately, disembodied yet warm and familiar. Kyle grabbed the door and forced it back.

"Thanks, I- oh my God..." The shift of tone in the mysterious voice made Kyle freeze, aching to shudder and when he looked up, he could have yelped at the sight. Instead, he just swallowed the slick lump that had risen in his throat and willed for his heart to start beating again. "Kyle?!"

"Stan," Kyle gasped, trying to make sense of the frenzied static in his head. "Stan! Hi..."

Kyle raked his widened, shocked eyes over his former 'super best friend'; his jet black hair was finger-combed and slightly shiny from fading product, his suit was innocuous and professional, but the sleeves were creased and Kyle could tell Stan didn't feel too comfortable in it, or perhaps even the entire persona he had to present here (Stan was never the type to mindlessly take orders) and there was a breathless quality to his voice that seemed both thoughtful and mildly stressed. But he wasn't unrecognizable, his inquisitive cobalt eyes still made Kyle less apprehensive to open up, and his mature, stubbled smile was still nuanced with troubled sensitivity and well-meaning.

He was trembling, Kyle noticed. He wanted to make it stop.

"Christ, it's been so long!" Stan laughed, trying to pull Kyle into a hug but his hands were full of bulging files. Kyle was willing to settle for a clumsy, one-arm embrace.

Kyle was unresponsive for a second, he felt unworthy of it all. But inhaling Stan's gentle, boyish scent and knowing that he had been a recipient of this closeness countless times before, Kyle mustered up the courage to hug Stan back and smile, "too long, Stan."

"Right?" Stan chuckled into Kyle's neck, pulling away he started to count. "It's been, like, wait... six years?"

The number blared accusingly in Kyle's mind. "Yeah, that sounds about right-"

"Well, what the Hell are you doing here? Are you working here?" Stan asked excitedly, before rubbing the back of his neck and rolling his eyes. "Sorry, I'm probably freaking you out, it's just I'm so excited and God, it's been too long, Kyle."

"No, that's- " Kyle began, but he stopped himself. Figuring it was too late for polite, meaningless small talk. "You could never freak me out, Stan."

It earned Kyle an appreciative, reminiscent smile that Kyle happily reciprocated. He wondered if Stan knew how grateful Kyle was for even having it in him to hug him, considering - _That's because you're too ashamed to tell him the whole story, douchebag._

"I don't work here." Kyle blurted out, saving himself but putting a tiny damper on the reunion. "I work for this, uh, software company and the firm is thinking about implementing it for its tablets, computers, all that stuff."

Stan nodded, impressed. "Wow, well, you look great." Stan shook his head and clarified, "I mean, you look like you're doing well for yourself."

"Thanks," Kyle chuckled. "But, hey, look at you! What are you doing?"

"Interning," Stan explained shyly. "But I kinda wanna stay permanently."

_Of course, he was always destined for something like this._

Kyle beamed proudly, "You'll be great here, Stan."

"I hope so," Stan replied, before a realization dawned on him. "Wait, don't tell me you live in the city?"

"No," Kyle lied, aware of the repercussions. "I'm just here for business."

Kyle could tell that Stan was trying to hide his dismay when he asked, "How long?"

"Two weeks."

"Jeez, that's a long trip."

Kyle furrowed his eyebrows, anxiety knotting in his stomach. "It is?"

"Sure," Stan replied after a thoughtful pause, like he wasn't sure himself. A mildly confident grin lit up his face when he continued, "well, long enough for us to grab a drink together some time."

Kyle blinked in surprise, had he entered an elevator that was actually a window to a parallel universe or something? _Wouldn't be the first time. _Kyle didn't even know how to answer that question, was it just an innocent catch up? More? They had exchanged a few kisses when they were fourteen, and in the early waves of puberty, maybe Kyle did feel something more for Stan, but that was all in the past. They moved on from all that when they were sixteen, at least. Kyle didn't even know if he could handle either possibilities.

Stan's face had reddened considerably, "God, that was such a cheesy line." He laughed self-deprecatingly, rolling his eyes. "It's like I was hitting on you or something. Which I'm not, I could never hit on you. You're my best friend, after all." _Still. _Kyle was amazed at the amount of faith Stan had in him. "So would you want to?"

"What, get a drink?"

Stan nodded sheepishly, and Kyle bit back a reluctant sigh. There was so much pressure behind having one little drink; questions he didn't want to answer, issues that he didn't want raised, responsibility that he had to take. But Stan's hopeful expression (akin to how Ike's face had appeared on his computer screen during their video call, the same expression Kyle had effortlessly extinguished), his trust and his understanding, Kyle couldn't deny him, could he?

"Of course," Kyle smiled, "I'd love to."

The duration of the elevator ride was spent making quick, brief conversation and an exchanging of phone numbers.

The merry chime of the elevator cut their conversation short. "Uh, this is my floor." Stan said, gesturing to the opening doors. "I'll see you Saturday." He smiled as he stepped out.

"Great," Kyle nodded. "See you then."

"Bye, dude." Stan replied, watching the doors shut and Kyle felt that old, boyish term of worn endearment more than he heard it. It transported him back to a time when things weren't so complicated, where he was able to reconsider his decisions.

"Bye," Kyle replied near silently, trying his hardest to contain the loaded emotion in his voice.

Then Stan was gone.

* * *

><p>A flurry of NRDC employees entered the elevator, so Kyle wasn't on his own for too long.<p>

He made himself invisible in the corner, trying to remember Eric's words about posture, facial expression, acting... It was crumbling, Kyle's resolve, but he needed to be rooted to something, and the conversation at Eric's apartment seemed preferable.

However, Kyle didn't feel like he was walking through the NRDC lobby, not with the same prickling excitement he felt this morning, he felt like he was clamoring in a murky sea, struggling gracelessly. He kept his head down and marched swiftly, careful not to bump into the other important looking people milling around.

Kyle nearly gasped as he stepped out of the revolving doors and into the usual business of Manhattan, the wind slapping him and leaving him to reel over the bizarre events in the elevator. Of all the environmental law firms in the world, Stan had to fucking work for this one?! Kyle wasn't ready. He never would be ready to face his old life. He was too involved, in too deep in a business that nobody back home would understand, let alone approve of. _Jesus fucking Christ, how am I gonna make it through Saturday night?!_

Kyle quickly moved out of the way of the doors, leaning against a secluded wall, finding some comfort in resting his head against the cold stone. Not even the sound of car horns and tangled conversations could drown out the reverberation of his wound up heartbeat, and his breathing was coming dangerously fast.

The vibration of his phone drilled into his thigh, and Kyle grunted in annoyance as he fished around in his pocket.

He read the name twice, just to make sure.

Eric.

An unlikely life preserver.

Kyle chuckled ruefully before putting an end to that infuriating buzzing against his palm. "Hello?" He answered, squeezing his eyes shut at his flustered, anxious tone.

"Hey, how was-" Eric paused, obviously noting the tone of Kyle's greeting. "Are you alright? Did everything go okay?"

Kyle didn't know what was crazier, running into Stan for the first time in six years whilst he was on a job, or Eric suddenly finding it in himself to show concern for him. "I, um, don't know." Kyle answered hesitantly, but honestly. He didn't know what he was feeling right now. He sighed, "yes and no, I guess."

"Okay, this isn't how I expected this conversation to pan out."

"Sorry, did you have a script prepared or something?"

"Smartass," Eric half-heartedly teased, it almost sounded warm. "Well, what happened? Can you tell me that?"

Kyle looked up at the chalky sky for answers, but found none so he sighed again and began to explain. "Everything was going great. Fantastic, even. I was calm, I lied through my teeth exactly like you told me to, they all loved me. I even got invited to drinks in Miller's office. Whoever the hell he is-"

"And you're not there right now because?"

"I have lunch with a client," Kyle explained, "but I did agree to go for a drink with them all this evening."

"So you redeemed yourself." Eric replied, "and? What's the bad part? Why are you so frantic?"

Kyle swallowed, he was dreading the words about to come out of his mouth, mostly because he couldn't believe it had happened. "Because I got in the elevator and Stan was there."

There was a disconcerting pause down the line and Kyle felt himself growing inexplicably nervous and unable to stop his growing anxiety. He willed for Eric to say something. He always had something to say, didn't he?

Finally, Eric asked, "who's Stan?"

Kyle furrowed his eyebrows. "You know, Stan."

"Again, who's Stan?" Eric asked again, puzzled.

Kyle rolled his eyes, he answered with impatient emphasis, "_Stan_."

"Christ, can you tell me his fucking last name please?" Eric snapped, obviously growing impatient himself. "Give me a hint? Fuck, do I even know this guy?"

Kyle's uneasiness morphed into incredulous anger at Eric's obnoxious inability to remember Stan. "Of course you know him, you fucking moron! It was Stan Marsh!"

Kyle didn't know whether Eric's pause was out of still having no fucking clue who Kyle was talking about, or shame that he could have forgotten Stan. But Kyle wasn't betting on the latter. Eric didn't even know the definition of shame, he would literally do anything if it meant he got what he wanted by the end of it.

"Oh, come on, Eric." Kyle begged, he couldn't help it. This need to allow Eric just a little redemption for his actions, let him right his wrongs and reluctantly offer second chances had been hardwired into Kyle upon his and Eric's first meeting.

"You remember Stan?" Kyle pressed, "From South Park? Black hair, used to wear a red puffball hat, you crashed a boat into a beaver dam with him?"

"Oh, fuck." Eric murmured, before it fully clicked. "Yeah, Stan. I remember him."

"And?"

"What?"

"Do you have anything else to add?" Kyle could have seethed.

"No," Eric simply replied.

"Oh my God," Kyle muttered bitterly.

"What?" Eric asked, an indignant keen to his voice.

"This is a kid who you've known since pre-school!" Kyle exclaimed. "You spent your entire childhood with him and you're acting like he doesn't matter!"

"Well, he doesn't."

"How can you say that?!"

"Not anymore."

"How can you just forget?!"

"Because I want to!" Eric snapped, halting Kyle in his tracks. He was still furious though. "I don't want to think about the past, okay? It's entirely irrelevant, that part of my life has closed. And I don't even know why the fuck I have to explain this and justify it to you! Why are we even having this conversation?"

"Because you're an unbelievable asshole!" Kyle retorted.

"I'm an asshole?" Eric said incredulously, "you've turned this whole thing on me because you feel what, guilty?"

Kyle felt like the breath had been pulled out from him.

_Damn him and his infuriating, manipulative insight into people._

_Damn him and his ability to read me like a fucking book._

Kyle squirmed remorsefully, "shut the fuck up, Eric!"

Inevitably, Eric ignored him. "You're so God damn childish, Kahl!" He ranted, "why don't you just man the fuck up?!"

Regardless who was in the wrong here, Kyle wasn't going to take that. "Hey, listen, dickhole, you don't know anything, okay?" Kyle replied through gritted teeth. "You don't have the God damn right to call me childish, or assume things about me, when you don't even understand-"

"And whose fault is that, huh?" Eric replied, unphased by Kyle's irrational anger. He saw this merely as an opportunity to reach out, to show Kyle that he was begrudgingly interested and that he actually cared. "You know, I'd be willing to listen if you just explained to me what the fuck has happened to you!"

Eric knew as soon as the words came out of his mouth, it was a gamble. Kyle turned them over in his head, wondering how many more curveballs Eric had to throw him. It was all so God damn confusing and Kyle was unsure of how to handle it.

"Hold-" Kyle gasped, the word catching in his throat. "Hold on... " He was going to be late for his lunch with Mr Henson, he didn't think it was wise to piss off a ruthless billionaire with a God complex. Kyle somehow managed to find the strength to call out, "taxi!"

Once Kyle was in the cab, he was mildly surprised to find that Eric had stayed on the line all this time. But Kyle couldn't let himself fall for whatever act Eric was messing him with, it was times like these where Kyle was thankful for his cynicism.

"Like I believe that shit," Kyle said curtly.

"I would," Eric replied.

"Why?"

"Because I wanna figure you out." Eric replied, giving nothing away.

Kyle knitted his eyebrows together, staring out at the passing streets, his mouth opening and closing slightly as he wondered whether he should cut Eric down completely or give him the benefit of the doubt. It wouldn't be the first time Eric had fooled Kyle, sure, Kyle knew how to handle it, but he was too old for all that and he didn't need the added bullshit in his life. But no matter how much he tried to convince himself of that, a warring voice kept pushing its way to the forefront of his mind. I_t wouldn't hurt, it wouldn't hurt, it wouldn't hurt. It wouldn't hurt to trust him... Would it?_

Clearly, Eric had left his offer exposed for too long, perceiving Kyle's silence as something else entirely.

"You know what? I don't fucking care if you're not gonna grant me the honor of getting to know you." Eric nearly spat down the line, Kyle huffed at his childish defence mechanism. Fucking typical. "I'll just leave that up to your little fuck buddy."

"Who the hell are you talking about?" Kyle snapped, starting to think that perhaps that predominant voice was wrong.

"Stan," Eric replied. "No doubt you're gonna be seeing a lot more of each other around the office and sucking each other's cocks in the men's restroom." Eric sneered, "since you were so close to doing that in high school, anyway."

_Fuck, why is he being a bigger, more obnoxious prick than usual? What's his problem?_

"Oh, so you remember that, huh?" Kyle asked sardonically, almost smirking smugly.

"Unfortunately, yes," Eric replied.

Kyle was already fuming, unable to think further than getting a rise out of Eric. "Well, I'm going for a drink with him this weekend and I'll be sure to let you know if I score with him."

Kyle didn't even wait for Eric's response, he wanted to toss his phone out of the fucking window.

And after taking a few deep breaths and letting his anger roil in his core, a cold blade of guilt plunged into Kyle's chest.

He cursed himself for even feeling guilty, unable to come up with an explanation for why that didn't make him feel..._ Shameful. Stupid_.

He wanted to call Eric back. But not to apologize, he just wanted to say something. Anything to erase whatever the hell he was feeling now.

But he was too proud, and that made him feel like even more of an idiot.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** _Eeek. What the hell just happened?_


End file.
